Salt
by obbbbaaa
Summary: Rachel and Quinn own a night club - Salt; a dead body is found on its washroom. Basically it's set during the investigation of the murder. inspired on a BONES episode.
1. Prologue

**Title: **_Salt_**  
Author: **girlnamedclark

**Genre: **Crime/Mystery; fluff for Rachel/Quinn's interactions ;)

**Characters: **I'm pretty sure I used every single one of the original gleeks in this fic. They all have different identities – some work for the club, two of them are the investigators, one is an entrepreneur…**  
Rating:  
Length:  
Spoilers: **completely AU, so none**  
Summary: **Rachel and Quinn own a night club - _Salt_; a dead body is found on its washroom. Basically it's set during the investigation of the murder.

**A/N: **The story line was based on an AU episode of Bones. It isn't necessarily the same story-line and/or the same murderer.

Okay, so things you should know before you read this:

Rachel and Quinn have been together for 4 years ;)

Quinn is a model

Finn is Quinn's brother (step-brother) – I know it's weird, but just go with it

Enjoy ;)

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An insistent knock at the door.

Rachel opens her heavy lids thinking – even though fuzzily – that that's the worst possible way to wake up. She closes her eyes again and her irrational mind starts travelling through all the different – but still unpleasant – ways she would prefer being woken up than with someone knocking on the door of her Los Angeles apartment, at 5 am. Cold water poured over her, a screaming soldier, a loud honk; they all come to mind and they all seem fairly attractive compared to the idea of lifting herself off bed at that moment.

She sighs, but then remembers she's not alone. She quietly deposits her faith in the eventuality that the person laying next to her will stand up and get the door.

But the woman – a beautiful, toned body, blond hair and hazel eyes woman – doesn't seem up to do so, as she presses her face harder into the pillow, letting out an annoyed noise.

And Rachel knows that – if she wants the inconvenient knock to stop – she has to get up and _make_ it stop. After all, it's her apartment and she vaguely remembers the last time someone woken her up this early it was her downstairs neighbour to warn her that her car was going to be towed off. That time it _paid _off getting her ass out of bed.

Rachel is down to her underwear and she quickly scans the room for the closest and quickest piece of clothing. She finds one of her rugby large shirts she uses to sleep, in the floor.

Rachel finds her way to the living room and to the front door, without bothering to open the lights.

Unwisely – and later she will think about it and condemn it (what was she thinking?, it could have been a psycho-killer at that time in the morning) she opens the door without looking through the door-hole.

The light from the hall blinds her and she has to squint. There are two people standing at her front door. One man and a woman; both dressed with suits – which seems oddly corky to Rachel being 5am and being on her pyjamas – just standing there, the man with his arms on his waist, bellow his suit jacket.

"Rachel Berry?" the man asks. Rachel suddenly realizes that they look like cops.

"Yes?" she answers, carefully, looking at them from head to feet.

"I'm agent Abrams" the man introduces himself, showing his badge. Not knowing anything about the subject, Rachel was sure that he could have been showing her a toy badge and she still wouldn't catch on his bluff "and this is my partner, agent Cohen-Chang" the woman standing by his side flashes her badge too "we are from FBI. We would like to talk to you. And, is Ms Quinn Fabray in there, as well?".

As in her cue, Rachel feels someone approaching her by behind, and Quinn stands by her side, an arched eyebrow in a slightly defiant way. She also notices that her girlfriend is wearing nothing but a pair of really shorty shorts and her bra.

Agent Arthur Abrams eyes slightly widened at seeing the so exposed woman, but – as Quinn doesn't seem even slightly bothered about it – he surely isn't going to be either. Agent Tina Cohen-Chang, though, slightly stirs, by his side.

"What's this about, agents?" Quinn asks, naturally.

"There was a body found at your club. You both will have to come with me".


	2. Chapter 1

It's almost five am and Rachel condemned herself for not thinking about bringing a jacket. But then again, she was really shocked when the agents told them that someone was found dead in their LA night club, _Salt_. All Rachel could think about was: what if she knew the person who died? What if it was one of her employees? Rachel was very close to everyone who worked at _Salt_. And what if it was a regular client she knew? Even if she didn't know the person, it was _still_ someone, and Rachel couldn't allow herself not to be bothered by someone appearing dead in her night club.

When the agents finally pulled over in front of _Salt_, Rachel could see police officers pushing people away, while someone tried to surround _Salt_'s entrance with yellow tape.

Rachel immediately felt the chilly 5am breeze when she stepped outside the car. Quinn, somehow, noticed that and, eyeing her by the corner of her eyes, she asked "are you cold?".

Rachel looked up, as if surprised by the question. She was cold, but she wasn't expecting that to matter, at that moment. Someone was dead. At their club.

Quinn, though, didn't need to wait for the answer and, naturally, takes off her jacket and handed it to Rachel. Rachel put it on and, besides feeling warmer, she felt comforted by Quinn's scent.

"Ms Berry, Ms Fabray!" Agent Cohen-Chang called, gesturing them to get inside the club. Rachel complied, Quinn following her closely.

The club – normally so crowded that people had to elbow their way to the bar – was empty, expect for a group of people standing by the bar counter and a dozen of cops/agents/photographers that inspected the place. Rachel couldn't help but to feel slightly violated by the fact that people were just going around her club and touching things and doing God-knows-what.

Rachel identified the group of people standing by the bar as their employees, and friends, and she hurried towards them, concernedly.

"Oh my God, is everyone okay?" she asked, worriedly, as she looks around, trying to realize if there was anyone missing.

Jesse, the DJ, was the one who answers, in that morbid, dark humorous tone he has "yes. Everyone we know".

Kurt, Rachel's assistant, was looking very pale and sick, sitting at one of the bar stools, looking at the floor. Jacob, the chef, doing the explanations "Kurt was the one who found it. I heard him screaming all the way from the kitchen".

"I didn't scream, I yelped" Kurt hurriedly corrected, but the amused smile forming on Santana's – the hostess – lips said otherwise.

Suddenly, Rachel remembered something, but Quinn seemed to read her mind, because she appeared from behind her and asked the question first "where's Finn?".

It's Agent Abrams that answers that question "Mr Hudson is on his way over here. Ms Berry, Ms Fabray, we're going to have to ask you to take a look at the body and see if you can't identify it" he announced, gesturing towards the washroom – where apparently it was found.

The colour in Rachel's face disappeared immediately. Looking at the dead body?

"I'll do it" Quinn offered, without taking a moment to think about it, taking a step forward "Rachel can't even look at blood" she explained.  
"I'm sorry, but we are going to need you two there to identify the body" the agent explained, patiently.

"Look, I know everyone she knows. So I'll do it, okay?" Quinn insisted, as she walks towards the bathroom door, as if seeing a dead body was something she did everyday "she doesn't need to see it".

"That's not how it works, Ms Fabray" Agent Abrams insisted, coldly, lifting his eyebrows.

"It's okay, Quinn, I'll look at it" Rachel said, sheepishly, as she doesn't want her girlfriend to get into any troubles. She knows Quinn is not intimidated by the agent and that scares her, because sometimes Quinn could be very protective of her.

Quinn stared incredulously at her, with arched eyebrows and gapped lips, before turning around and pushing the door open.

Rachel followed her and the agents inside the washroom, feeling her heart racing as if she was about to have a panic attack.

Quinn is already standing in front of a bathroom stall, her hazel eyes stuck on what's inside of its opened door. Her mouth's corners are slightly curled in disgust, but she doesn't show any sign of nausea. There's a photographer kneeled by her side, taking photos of the dead body.

Quinn looked over her shoulder to Rachel, biting her lip. At that moment, Rachel knows that, whatever she's about to see, it won't be nice. But the agents are behind her, waiting for her to take a look inside, so she takes a deep breath, and steps forward meeting Quinn.

A wave of sickness possessed Rachel, as soon as her eyes focus on the dead body before her. The body – of a man - was leaning against the wall, legs opened. He had been shot directly into his chest– there was _so much_ blood – and the glass look on his eyes were one of the most _bone chilling_ things she had ever seen. She has never seen the guy, though.

She feels Quinn reaching for her hand and squeezing it encouragingly, but she can't stare at_ it_ for more than two seconds.

"Well?" Agent Cohen-Chang asked, expectantly.

"Don't know him" Rachel mumbled, her eyes on the floor trying to stop her head from spinning.

The agents waited for Quinn's response. She's looking worriedly at Rachel "neither do I" she finally answered, softly.

At that moment, a man bursted into the bathroom. He looked slightly frenetic, as he glared around the room, dark eyes frantically searching for something "I came as soon as I heard. Is everyone okay?". He's tall and has dark, strong hair. His hair is messy, and by his ruffled button down shirt, everyone can tell that he came straight out of bed.

"Finn" Rachel mumbled, slightly comforted by the fact that he was there. He glared at her, frowning, and then at Quinn. Quinn waved her head towards the bathroom stall. As he carefully steps forwards to look inside, Quinn seized Rachel shoulders and directed her towards the door.

"Are we done here?" she asked coldly at the agents.

"Apparently" Abrams answered "please wait for us outside. We are going to need to talk to everyone of your staff that was here last night" he announces and then turns toward Finn – who was walking toward the body – and started relating "the traumatism in his head probably means someone knocked him unconscious before executing him".

Finn had already seen a dead body before and he doesn't seem too upset by it. His time in the army had made him unaffected by it – it wasn't the first dead body he had seen and it was definitely far from the most shocking one. He lingered his eyes on the body, before snapping out of his thoughts and turning around, walking toward the agents "would that really be necessary? I mean, whomever did this was probably a client and we have hundreds clients a night. It would be stupid for you to suppose it was someone inside".

"We're not saying that we think that it was someone of the staff" Agent Abrams replied, dryly "or saying otherwise, by that matter, but we need to ask some questions about last night to them, try to figure out if someone saw something… unusual".

"I'm going to call Mercedes" Quinn announced, surely.  
"Is that really necessary?" Rachel asked, frowning.

"If their going to interrogate our staff we need a lawyer" Quinn explained, wisely.

"You're welcome to do so" Abrams shrugged "meanwhile, is there anywhere private where we can talk to each one of you?".

Rachel glared at Quinn, as if asking her permission "my office is just at the end of this hall, so…"  
"Perfect" Agent Abrams was already exiting the bathroom, followed by agent Cohen-Chang.


	3. Chapter 2

Two hours in to the starting of the interrogation, and Arthur Abrams was ready to explode. That crowd was either highly stupid or just incredibly uncooperative. Neither of them seemed minimally intimidated about their "agent" status, and they all seemed enough comfortable to just sit there and talk nonsense that didn't have any interest for the case whatsoever.

Chef Jacob started up with a cryptic "think of me as your prime suspect of the crime" that led Mercedes Jones, the club's representative in the interrogation room, to sigh, shaking her head "I mean, I'm a classically trained chef. I've gone to good schools. Still, my job consists on cooking chicken wings that are designed to make people drink more beer. I'm a man on the edge" he concluded, seriously.

Matt was a dark guy who was the head of security in the club and answered every question by nodding or shaking his head, with a puzzled look on his face, as if he was trying to remember last night events and it wasn't an easy thing for him. Agent Abrams leaned over Rachel's desk "are you aware that somebody turned off the security cameras last night?". He shook his head "aren't you supposed to be the head of security?" he nodded his head. The agent sighed "did you witness anything weird last night?" he asked. Matt shook his head "so there were no altercations happening in the club?" Matt shook his head. The agent was confused "there were or there weren't?".

"There were" Matt finally spoke, quietly.

"Well, tell me about them" the agent asked, impatiently.

There's a moment before he speaks "A drunken guy. Copped a feel at a young lady. Kicked him out" it was enough of an explanation.

The agent tried his best not to roll his eyes "anything else?".

"Hum… other drunken guys. Nothing unusual" he said, finally.

"What about lately? Any altercations worth noticing?".

Matt bit his lip, thoughtfully "well, Mr Hudson, he had a fight with Pucky Puck last week".

"Finn Hudson?" Agent Cohen-Chang made sure, as she wrote something down.

"Pucky Puck, the street rapper?" Agent Abrams seemed suddenly more interested. Matt nodded in confirmation.

"I don't know what it was about, though".

Later, while interrogating Jesse, the DJ, they asked about Pucky Puck and were able to get some explanations "Puck wants to perform here in Salt, but Finn is not letting him do so".

"Why?".

"Because Pucky Puck would bring his _brother _and then other gang members can show up and it can turn pretty bad. We had one bad experience like that, a couple years ago" Jesse explained, shrugging nonchalantly.  
"And so they fought over it?".

"Yeah, it was pretty bad. I heard them shouting all the way from the DJ booth, when I was setting the equipment ready last week. Pucky Puck threatened to send his connections after Finn".

"And what did Finn say?".

"He's not really scared about it. The man was in the army, for God's sake, he can take care of himself. I think he was more worried about Rachel…"

"And Quinn" the agent added, frowning in suspicion "she's his sister, right?".

Jesse smiled, mysteriously "right, but Quinn doesn't spend that much time in the club. She's most of the time away working".  
"As a model" the agent added, again.

"Right. And, plus, Finn really cares about Rachel…" Jesse didn't care to elaborate that, even though the agents asked him to. So, when Santana – who seemed like the type of girl who wouldn't mind talking and would actually appreciate the opportunity to do so – came inside the room, they questioned her about it, too.

She seemed happy to be able to share some gossip "oh, Finn's totally in love with Rachel. He's always been".

"But Ms Berry is dating his sister?..." Agent Cohen-Chang noted and Santana shrugged, leaning her head to the side and checking her recently manicured nails.

"Don't tell me about it. I would nothing but love having me some piece of that man. But he has only eyes for Rachel. He met her first, you know?".

"What are you talking about?" Agent Abrams had mixed feelings getting himself deep in that much gossip, but it might lead somewhere.

"He met Rachel before Rachel met Quinn, duh" she laughed, relaxingly "he was the one who introduced them to one another. Talk about fate being a bitch, right?" Santana asked, conversationally, ignoring the uncomfortable expression of Agent Cohen-Chang at the language "he wanted Quinn to meet her because Rachel was the woman of his dreams, or whatever, and then Quinn got the girl. Poor guy".

"Do you think he holds grudge against them?" Agent Abrams was happy that the session of gossip had paid off.  
"No!" Santana shook her head; vehemently "he cares too much about both women. He wants them to be happy" she pulled a face, as she thought that sentence was lame.

Once the agents thought that that subject had been discussed enough, they showed pictures of the dead individual on the bathroom stall and questioned about she having seen him. Her nose was slightly furrowed in disgust, as she slid the pictures back to them "nope".

"But you are the hostess. You see everyone that walks in".

"Hundreds of people a night, yeah" Santana said, amusedly "do you really expect me to know everyone's faces by heart? Besides, he's not even remotely cute".

Brittany, the coat girl, nervously denied having seen the guy, but after a not very particular pressuring session of questions, she broke down and admitted she had been the one turning the cameras off "I had nothing to do with the murder, I just wanted some time alone with my boyfriend!" she cried. That story was confirmed by her boyfriend – Jesse, the DJ – as he related how they often used the coat room as a place for their "quickies" as he put it. Jesse also told them that he and Brittany had escaped to the Lost and Found room a little before midnight.

After questioning all of the Club's staff, Agent Abrams got only negative answers about if they could identify the body. He was getting suspicious about that fact.

Finally, it was time to interrogate the club owners, one by one. They decided to start with Rachel, confident that she would be the one from whom they could extract more information from.

Rachel sat on the chair in front of her desk, quietly inspecting the room around her; her office. The agents lingered in silence, observing her.

When they started the questioning, they did it softly, casually, because they knew it was the best approach for the woman.

Finally, the hard questions appeared "Ms Berry, which one his closer to the washroom: your office or the kitchen?".

Rachel frowned at the obvious answer "my office, of course. It's just at the end of the hall…"  
"And you say you were in your office from… what time to what time?" the Agent asked, casually.

"From around 10pm to 1.30am" Rachel answered, again, as she had answered on the beginning of the interrogation.

"The cagouling of the blood indicates that the death took place somewhere between midnight and 1am, which means you were on the building, on your office, more specifically, when it happened".

"I guess so" Rachel shrugged, feeling anxious.

"How can you explain, then, that your chef heard your assistant screaming – all the way from the kitchen – when he found the body and you, from your office, didn't hear a gunshot?"

Rachel stared emotionless at him "I can't explain it".

"Which makes me think of two options" Agent Abrams continued "either you heard the gunshot and you are lying, or you are lying and you weren't in your office – or in the building – when it happened".

"I don't know what else to tell you. I was in my office from 11 to 1.30am. And I did not hear any gunshot. I would have called the police immediately".

"Unless you were involved in the murder, right?" Agent Cohen-Chang asked.

Rachel stared up at her. She didn't know what to say.

"Alright, you made your point" Mercedes suddenly stepped in "but there might be other reasons why she didn't hear the gunshot. Are you making Miss Berry a suspect because of it?" she asked, raising her brows, judgementally.

"At this point we are making everyone a suspect" Agent Abrams answered "and we are just trying to get the facts out. Shall we continue, Ms Berry?".

Rachel bit her lower lip, but nodded.

"So, you say you left the building at 1.30am. Do you usually leave that early, having in count that the club only closes at 4am?".

"No, I don't" Rachel answered, instinctively looking at Mercedes who had warned her, previously, not to answer questions she wasn't asked.

"Why did you leave early?" Agent Abrams asked, then.

"I went home to meet Quinn".  
"Because she had just arrived Los Angeles, am I right?" the agent asked.

"Yes".

"Where has she been and doing what?".

"She's been in Miami for the last month working on a campaign" Rachel naturally answered.

"Okay" Agent Abrams looked from the corner of his eyes to Agent Cohen-Chang, who was writing down the information Rachel was giving "do you and Ms Fabray live together?".

"Hum…" Rachel struggled with the answer "Quinn has her own apartment, but we're practically living together on my apartment".

"And that was where you met last night?".

"Yes. At my apartment".

"Was Ms Fabray already there when you arrived?" Abrams insisted.  
"She was; she arrived to the LAX about two hours before and she had arrived to the apartment for not long before I got there".

"Right" Abrams nodded as his partner wrote frenetically "and once you arrived, did you stay up for much longer?".

Rachel blushed, automatically "hum… yes, I think you can say so".

"So you didn't go right away to sleep, you stayed up".

"Yes".

"Doing what?" Abrams asked.

Rachel glared towards Mercedes, trying to figure out if it was really necessary answering that question. Mercedes nodded toward her "we had sex".

"Right" for a moment, Abrams seemed a little taken aback, but he composed himself "anything else?".  
"Sorry?".  
"After the sex, did you do anything else?" he asked.  
"No, we fell asleep" Rachel shook her head.  
"And that was… how many hours after you arrived home?" he asked.

"Hum… an hour and an half. Something like that".

A single, surprised eyebrow arched in Abrams forehead as if he was asking _really?_, but he didn't; he stayed professional.


	4. Chapter 3

Outside, the staff was too tired and worn out to do anything, and they basically just sat over the counter stools, over the counter, on the couches, over the tables, while Jesse was the only one who was standing, walking back and forth, thoughtfully. Kurt glared him, with a hint of preoccupation in his eyes.

Quinn seemed utterly bored, leaning on a table, arms crossed and sucking her lower lip, immerse in thoughts. Santana – because those two had always been drawn to each other for the love of material things – approached her, falling on the couch by the table's side, sighing.  
"I wish I could just go outside and smoke a cigarette. I've been craving for one the entire evening" Santana commented, as she rolled her neck back, massaging it at the same time "haven't you?".

"I stopped smoking, Santana" Quinn said, still looking absent-mindedly. She had quitted that habit over a year ago, for Rachel, because she really despised it.

"I wasn't asking if you would smoke one; I was asking if you craved for one" Santana pointed out, smiling amusedly.

Quinn fell into silence, again. After another few minutes of sucking her lower lip, she let a tired sigh come out, as she uncrossed her arms "this couldn't have come at a worst time" she commented, more to the air than to the brunette on the couch.

"What are you talking about?" Santana asked, confusedly, glaring her own manicured nails.

Quinn gestured around the club "this" she explained.  
"Why is it the worst time, now?" Santana asked, her eyebrows now arched in curiosity as she inspected the blonde interestedly.

Quinn was about to open her mouth to answer her, when she thought better about it. She crossed her arms again, falling into silence.  
"Come on!" Santana laughed, straightening herself up "now that you started you have to finish it".

"Forget it, Santana" Quinn asked, looking straight ahead.

The brunette insisted.

"No, I know you, you can't keep a secret for your life" she eyed the Latina from the corner of her eye.  
"A secret?" Santana gasped, enthusiastically "now you really have to tell me. I swear I won't tell anyone, come on!".

Quinn sighed. She wasn't in the mood to fight it anymore, but she knew she would regret this later. Hesitantly, she stuck her hand inside her jeans pocket and when it emerged, she was holding a black tiny box. Looking around, to make sure no one was looking at them or at it, Quinn opened it, revealing a stunning, expensive-looking, engagement ring.

Santana gasped, before she covered her mouth with her own hand "oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God".

"Shhh! Santana, you can't tell anyone, are you listening to me?" Quinn hurriedly told her, closing the box again and hiding it in her pocket.

"You are going to propose! To Rachel!" Santana shrieked, whispering, her words still muffled by her hand.

Quinn couldn't stop the smile that crept to her lips "I bought it in Miami. I've been thinking about it for sometime now. I thought about giving it to her yesterday, I mean, last night when I finally saw her but we got…" another naughty smile occupied her lips "distracted. I now wish I had done it then".

"Well, I think it's better you didn't. This" she gestured around "would completely kill the magic of it".

"Yes, but now I can't purpose too. Not when our club is being investigated for a murderer" Quinn whispered, testily.  
"I guess you'll have to wait" Santana shrugged.

Quinn bit her lip, not happy about that fact "I've waited enough" she mumbled, under her breath.

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After a heavy on emotions day, the agents finally let everyone go home – which, for people who knew, like Finn, meant that they hadn't found evidences to incriminate any of them – but with the warning that anyone who tried to leave town would be immediately treated as suspect and "haunted" down.

Finn walked Rachel outside, after calling a taxi for her and his sister, while Quinn stayed behind to talk to the agents. Rachel was unusually quiet, and he was starting to feel slightly unnerved by that fact "are you okay?" he asked, eyeing her concernedly.

When Rachel looked up and saw his worried dark eyes, she felt a wave of affection and embarrassment for making him concerned, and forced a brave smile "yeah, I'm just…" she honestly couldn't finish that sentence.  
"Everything's going to be okay, you know?" Finn said and – as much as he tried to push that instinctive side of him (he felt like it wasn't his place), he could never stop feeling protective about the brunette. Sometimes he felt like his simple thoughts and affections toward Rachel were like a betrayal to his sister. But he couldn't control how he felt. He could only control his actions and his respect for their relationship. And sometimes it was hard enough to become impossible. But he had apologized about that, already "you don't have to worry about anything. The police will do their jobs and we don't have to worry about it".

"I know, I guess I'm just… upset. It happened in our club, you know? And he was a person. I can't stop feeling a little… guilty for his death. Should we have better security? Matt is great, but obviously something's wrong in that department…"  
"I told you not to worry about any of that. And please don't feel guilty, because it couldn't be farther from your fault. And don't worry about anything, let me do so. I'll talk to Matt. You don't need to do anything; I'll take care of it".

Rachel only had time to smile thankfully, before Quinn appeared and announced that the cab was waiting for them.

They had barely got inside the apartment and Rachel as already taking her shoes off, on her way to the couch. Quinn closed the door behind them and let the keys – her keys from the apartment – on the bowl on the living room coffee table.

As Rachel sunk in the couch, letting out a heavy sight, Quinn disappeared inside the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, once inside.

"No" Rachel answered, pulling a face. She had actually been feeling sick all day, after seeing the body.

Quinn registered that and when she reappeared on the living room, she brought two glasses of red wine and sat by Rachel's side. Rachel smiled appreciatively, as she reached for one of them. She liked how Quinn knew exactly what she needed.

Quinn sipped the wine, while quietly staring at Rachel doing so. Then she leaned toward Rachel and she captured her lips with hers. Without parting, Quinn rested her glass on the coffee table and she reached for Rachel's doing the same. She then turned, until she was straddling Rachel's waist, kissing her ardently.

Rachel's hands rested in her thighs, affectionately tracing patterns with her thumbs. Quinn's lips slid down on the brunette's jaw line and they explored the bare skin of her neck, sucking gently, and doing flickering movements with her tongue.

"Quinn, I'm exhausted" Rachel gently said, sounding slightly amused, but mainly tired. Because Quinn basically seemed to have ignored this, Rachel placed a hand in her chest, gently pushing her.

Quinn looked at Rachel, one arched eyebrow "I'm not in the mood" Rachel mumbled, pressing her lips together.

Quinn stared back at her, for a moment, before removing herself from Rachel's top, moping "I can't fucking believe that a guy we didn't even know is stopping me from spending enjoyable time with my girlfriend when I'm only going to be in town for another three days".

Rachel was suddenly not amused "Quinn, he was a person and he's dead. Doesn't that bother you?" she asked, frowning in a slightly exasperated way.  
"It's not like I wanted him to be dead, but it doesn't affect me that much because I didn't know him when he was alive, and I still don't know him now that he's dead. I don't get why you are so upset about this".  
"Well, if nothing else upsets you, then you could think about the fact that it happened in our club?" Rachel asked, standing up.

"Yes, it's unfortunate, but nothing to stop our lives about" Quinn threw back. Rachel was walking toward her bedroom.

"God, Quinn, sometimes I don't understand how you can be so insensible. It's a damn life" Quinn was going to reply this, but Rachel was already inside her bedroom.

Quinn didn't follow her. As she heard Rachel sink in the bed, Quinn fell on the couch. She didn't really feel like watching TV but she wasn't going to pay attention to it, anyway. She left on the history channel – where a documentary on Henry VII was on – and she thought about Rachel's words.

All her life, Quinn had struggled with her feelings. She wasn't good at showing them – at expressing them. People misunderstood her confident nature as being cold, or simply bitchy, but she really didn't think she was either of those things. She was controlled – yes – but she had feelings. It really bothered her that she wasn't able to be as warm and bubbly as people all around her seemed to be.

With Rachel, things were easier. She never pushed Quinn to expressing her feelings but Quinn did it, without being able to help it. She was soft and sweet to Rachel without pushing herself to be. Even though Quinn wasn't able to express it as poetically or elaborately as many other people, she hoped the little things she did – like mumbling "I love you" when they were alone, or bringing her breakfast to bed, or worrying sick about her, or trying, every second of her day, to make Rachel proud of her – showed how she felt about Rachel.

Once she was feeling her head spinning around from the wine, Quinn turned the TV off. She hesitated on her way to the bedroom, but she eventually entered it. She pushed the door ever so slowly, because she didn't want to wake up Rachel. It wasn't until Quinn stripped down to her underwear and crawled inside the sheets that she realized Rachel was still awake. Quinn instinctively puzzled her body with Rachel's, involving her by the waist, bending her knees behind her, her nose tickled by Rachel's soft hair. It was very frustrating for Quinn to feel that kind of love for someone and not be able to express it, completely.

But then Rachel's hands involved Quinn's and she intertwined their fingers, rubbing her thumb in Quinn's palm. And Quinn knew that Rachel knew _exactly_ how much she loved her. And even though the entire world might misunderstand Quinn, Rachel didn't, and that was enough for her.


	5. Chapter 4

Agent Abrams fell on his desk, accompanied by a cup of coffee, on the dark and empty room of his office. The only illumination came from the little lamp he had over his table, directly towards a photo of the Miss California in a bikini. It was unprofessional, but he liked to stare at it, it distracted him enough to get him a fresh view over a subject he had been thinking about hardly. So, if you think about it, it was by professional reasons. It had nothing to do with Miss California's… assets.

He leaned over his desk. Agent Cohen-Chang was already home. That was why he was going to be promoted to Special agent and she wasn't. Someday.

Tina's handwriting was close to illegible but he had gotten used to it after one year of working together. He looked at her notes.

It didn't seem to be a particular difficult case. It was a murder in a club. The bullet was still inside the victim and it was being examined in the lab – as for the victim's identity. It still puzzled Abrams how no one had heard the gun being shot – not only Rachel – but everyone else, clients, staff that were in the club that night. That was why he wasn't inclined to believe that Rachel Berry had done it – even though that didn't mean that she wasn't involved with the murder. But the look of sickness in her face when she saw the dead body couldn't be faked and she had been close to faint. About Quinn Fabray, Abrams wasn't so sure. She didn't even flinch at seeing the body, but he had asked around and everyone seem to tell him the same thing about Quinn – a rational, unemotional, - dare he say it – cold woman. Plus, he had seen the girl in many ads around the city – she was fearless.

At that moment, Abrams was more leaned toward believing that it had been a job from outside. The Pucky Puck story seemed to fit pretty well – he was connected with gangs. Maybe he decided to send a warning to Finn Hudson by killing a man on his club and letting him know that if he wanted, he could do it.

The entire Finn-Rachel-Quinn love triangle was also interesting, even though Abrams wasn't sure where it fit in all of this.

There had been another interesting point Finn had brought up. He told them about how there was this entrepreneur – Mike Chang – that wanted to buy the club, badly. Neither one of the owners wanted to sell, but the man had been insistent, coming to the club almost every night and offering bigger and bigger deals. Finn had last told him no the Monday before. Maybe Mike Chang had done that – to intimidate the owners or only to get the club's rep down, so that they would have no choice but to sell it. That was also an interesting option, in Abrams' opinion.

He was confident that any of this hypothesis would be revealed, once they got the identification of the body.

Hours later, when the phone on his desk rang, he picked it up at the first ring "yes?".

"We got news" it was from the lab. He smiled, before hanging up, setting the notes into a pile, and leaving towards the stairs.

w~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~w

"I really don't understand what I'm doing here" Quinn mumbled, as Santana moved around the boutique, touching every single piece of clothing she could grasp.  
"You're being a friend and helping me with an outfit for my dinner out with simply the hottest and most successful man I've met" Santana chanted, as she picked up a black top.

"I'm not your friend, I'm your boss" Quinn corrected, naturally, as she looked around the boutique.

"Oh, you know you love it when we hang out" Santana answered, amusedly "it's good to have so friends not models, right? Some regular people".  
"Just to be sure; are you referring to yourself as regular?" Quinn said, in that sarcastic tone of hers that went by unnoticed by the people that didn't know her. Luckily, Santana knew her.

She smiled "you're right. I'm nothing of regular" she raised a bright orange dress and Quinn only had to furrow her nose to get her point across.

"So, you're having a date tonight?" Quinn asked, naturaly.

"Yes" Santana stopped what she's doing to look at the ceiling with her hands in her chest "and, oh Quinn, he's so perfect. I can't even believe the luck I had in finding someone like him, single".

"Well, maybe there's a reason for him being single" Quinn suggested, to tease Santana, but the brunette doesn't get it.  
"Yeah, totally fate" she commented, absent-mindedly.

"So, you know, you don't think it's inappropriate either?" Quinn resumed, anxiously.

Santana is utterly confused "what are you talking about?".

"You know, moving on with our lives from the murder. We're not insensitive for continuing our regular lives, right? We didn't know the guy".  
"Obviously. Honestly, I had forgotten that anyone had died, really" Santana commented, shrugging her hand dismissively. She gasps and reaches for a pair of shoes.

Quinn sees herself staring at the most despicable pair of shoes that she's ever seen. They're ankle boots, with a heel of at least 6 inches and of a grey and blue leopard print. She suddenly realizes why she's there.

"Santana, those are disgusting" Quinn said, the gentlest way she's able to.

Santana seems offended in the shoes' name "don't you think they give kind of a couture vibe?".

Quinn laughs. Not any couture she's walked for. With a little more convincing, Quinn manages to get Santana to buy red pumps, because they just go with anything.

"And, besides, we can have girl talk" Santana suddenly announced, as she inspects a sleeveless black dress.

"We have girl talk all the time" Quinn noted "by the way, did you get your nails done at that place I told you?".  
"Yeah" Santana proudly showed her their work "expensive, but totally worth it. Actually, I was talking about you, you know" Santana suddenly lowered her voice to a whisper "proposing Rachel".

"What's there to talk about?" Quinn asked, nonchalantly "I told you, I can't do it now. Rachel is even more affected by this than I thought she would be. Last night she totally blew me off…"  
"Blablabla" Santana covered her ears, pulling a face "I don't need to hear about your sex life. But you know Rachel, she's more sensible than the rest of people. You have to give her time…"

"Yeah, I know that".

"I just wanted to know how you are planning on purposing to her" Santana continued, expectantly.

Quinn shrugged "I don't know yet".

"Weren't you planning on purposing to her the night you arrived?" Santana frowned, confusedly.  
"Yes, but you know me. I'm not really big on love gestures. I would just…"

"Give her the ring?" Santana yelped, shocked "Quinn, you can't just do that. It's a wedding proposal. It's the moment girls dream about since they're born…"

"I didn't dream about my wedding proposal since I was born".

Santana ignored her "it's the moment when your life changes. You will start remembering things that happen to you and you'll have as a time mark: before marrying, after marrying. It's a fucking big deal!".

"Santana, I appreciate the concern, but you know, I know how I would be comfortable doing it, and I don't think that Rachel is expecting anything else from me. She would want me to be true to myself".

"But you need some dramatically, you need some gesture…" Santana's rants were interrupted by Quinn's phone ringing, and the blonde made no ceremonies, turning around and picking up the call.

"Yes?".

Quinn immediately recognised Agent Abram's voice "I have updates. Can you and Ms Berry meet us at Café di Rossi in two hours?".

w~~~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~w

"Dave Karofsky" Agent Abrams introduced, as he slides across the café table some pictures of the man found dead in _Salt's_ washroom. Rachel inspects them with frowned eyebrows, Quinn bites her lip.

"That's his name?" Rachel asked, at lack of anything better to say.

"Yes. Do you recognise the name?" Tina Cohen-Chang questioned, patiently, even though she already knows the answer.  
"No".

"The bullet found inside his body is from guns usually used by the mob. We can't really say if it's their doing, but we'll look into it".

"You haven't found the murder weapon yet" Quinn half-affirmed, half-asked.  
"No, we're still looking for it. Plus, we found evidences of fabric on the bullet, which basically means the gunshot was muffled. The murderer involved the gun with some sort of fabric before shooting to quiet the shot" Agent Cohen-Chang explained them "we're also going to be looking for that fabric".  
"So that explains how Rachel didn't hear the gunshot, right?" Quinn asked, hopefully, eyeing her girlfriend.  
"Possibly" Agent Abrams answered, not seeming that convinced about it "even though I doubt the shot would be really completely muffled by just a piece of fabric".

"But with loud music on top of it" Quinn noted.

"Possibly" Agent Abrams repeated, not very expressively.

"Anything else you found out?".

"There are signs in the body of some sort of fight before the actual mortal gunshot. We're still not sure about what it means, having in count that the washroom isn't a place where two people can fight each other without anyone seeing. We are leaning toward the presumption it happened somewhere else".

Quinn nodded "what about the club?" she asked, changing the subject.

"What about it?".

"When are you going to let us open? I don't want to sound insensible…" her eyes automatically turned to Rachel "but nights closed… it's going to hurt financially".

"Well, it's a murder scene, and we can keep it closed as long as we need to".

Quinn wasn't happy about the vague answer, but the look Rachel gave her stopped her from pushing that subject any further.


	6. Chapter 5

The murder weapon was finally found the next day… on Kurt's car. Kurt Hummel was arrested for suspicion of committing the murder, not only because he was in possession of the murder weapon, but also because it had his fingerprints all over it.

As a police officer drags Kurt out of the club, Rachel stares at the scene mortifyingly. Her pale assistant looks up at her and he seems to open his mouth to explain something to her, but then the policeman pushes him, and he has no choice but to let him drag him to the police car.

Rachel turned her head and sees Quinn looking at the scene with the same angst as she is doing. When the words start sounding, Rachel's tears start falling "he wouldn't…".

Quinn involves her in a tight hug "I know, babe."

Someone clears his throat, behind them. Rachel turns around and sees a hesitant and nervous looking Jacob, which she has never saw before. He's pale and bites his lower lip, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.  
"Can I talk to you guys?" he asked, careful not to be caught in any kind of eye contact "better yet, can I show you something?".

Rachel looks confusedly at Quinn, but the blonde doesn't seem that surprised. They let him lead them to the back door of the club. Once on the back street, Jacob walks to a garbage can and opens it. Rachel carefully lets Quinn look inside first – to make sure it isn't something disgusting – but when the blonde straightens herself up she only looks puzzled. Rachel then looks at it herself. It seems to be some sort of burned fabric.

"What's this?" Rachel questions Jacob.

Jacob seems uncomfortable by answering that "it's your jacket".

"My jacket?" Rachel frowns.

"Your Luis Vuitton jacket" Jacob explains "at least Kurt told me it's Luis Vuitton".

Rachel gasps, horrified. It had been a gift from Quinn. Quinn doesn't seem happy either.  
"What happened to it?" Rachel cries.

"Me and Kurt, we found it. With the bullet hole. We burned it".

"What, you burned it?" Rachel shrieks and only then focuses on the other part "with the bullet hole?".

"Yeah" Jacob confirms looking at them "it was used to muffle the gunshot, I guess".

"Why did you burn it?" Quinn continued, frowning her brows in a mist of realization and confusion.

"It was an evidence" he looks down, embarrassedly "against… you".

Rachel is mortified. Quinn only looks surprised.

"Do you think we killed the man?" she asks, as if she's making sure that's what's going on. Rachel can't understand how she sounds so calm before such an accusation.

"Well…" he seems deeply embarrassed "I'm sure you had a good reason to do so…".  
"Jacob, we killed no one!" Rachel cried.

"Is that why Kurt had the gun in his car? He found it and hid it because he thought it had our fingerprints on it?" Quinn asked, reasonably.

"Well, not Rachel's fingerprints but yours. Rachel wouldn't shoot a man…" he mumbled to his chest, flushing intensily.

"And Quinn could?" it was Rachel being indigenised in her girlfriend's behalf.

"Well, Quinn is more… cold blooded" he admitted, hesitantly.

Quinn lift a single brow at this, but then ignored it "so Kurt is now in jail because he tried to protect us?" she didn't wait for Jacob's answer "idiot" she mumbled, against her chest.

"What are we going to do?".

"I'll go to the police station right now and I'll try to set things clear" Quinn announced, decidedly.

w~~~~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~~w

Agent Abrams made her sat on the opposite side of the table where he was sitting. He was sipping his coffee, in a relaxed way, and Quinn felt that he was about to pull a newspaper and read it. He offered her coffee, she refused it.

"So, you're telling me that Kurt hid the gun because he found Ms Berry's jacket with the bullet hole and he thought you two had done the deed?" he seemed slightly amused and Quinn was annoyed by that fact.

"Yes".

"You know that's still a crime? Hiding evidences?".

"He didn't mean to, he only thought that…" Quinn tried, dismissively.

"It's still a crime. Who guarantees me that you and Ms Berry are not the murderers?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow daringly.

"Well… is there fingerprints of any of us in the gun?" Quinn asked.

"No" he answered, promptly, and then paused thoughtfully "only Mr Hummel's and Mr Karofsky's. That doesn't mean anything, because there's many ways of…"

"Mr Karofsky's?" Quinn interrupted, interestedly, slightly leaning over the table.

"Yes".

"So he touched the gun too?" she made sure.

"Our theory was that it was his gun to begin with" he explained, naturally.

"Oh. And what does that mean?" Quinn asked, curiously.  
"That's what we're trying to understand, Ms Fabray. Now, you're going to have to leave because I need to interrogate your little friend/assistant/accomplice".

"Can I see him?" Quinn asked, hopelessly, already knowing the answer.

"No".

"Can you thank him for us?" Quinn asked, and there's a hint of amusement in her voice that Mr Abrams wasn't expecting. Maybe Quinn Fabray wasn't as cold as he had thought she was.

"For protecting you and your crime?".

"The intention is what counts, Agent Abrams" Quinn informed him, with a mysterious smile, as she stands up and leaves the room.

w~~~~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~~w

The bell from Rachel's apartment sounds, and Rachel frowns, thinking that Quinn forgot her key. When she opens the door she doesn't find a stunning blonde woman standing on the other side; instead she finds a stunning dark haired woman with tan skin.

"Santana" she says, surprisingly. What surprises her the most isn't the fact that she came all the way from her apartment without announcing first, but the anxiety that the Latina appears to be in. She's shifting her weight from one leg to the other, biting her lower lip nervously.

"This is bad" Santana walks inside the apartment, without bothering to ask for permission. She walks around the living room, appearing to be nervous. Rachel is slightly scared, because she has never seen the club's hostess like that, walking back and forth.

"What happened?" Rachel asks, anxiously but softly, trying not to push the Latina.

"I'm going to tell you, give me a minute" Santana told her, in a slightly freaked out tone, as she waves her hands intensely. Rachel patiently waits as Santana finds her cool.

Santana sighs, and then presses her palm against her forehead "okay. You know what I ever really wanted to do was to be an interior designer, right? That I'm only working as an hostess because I'm too scared to commit to anything that I really like and then failing horribly?".

For some reason, in the middle of the tension, Rachel smiled at this "yes" she answered, softly.

"Well, the guy – the dead guy" she explains, naturally, gesturing "he talked to me on the night of the murder".

"What?" Rachel cried "why didn't you tell the police?".

Santana ignored this "he tells me some story about opening his own night club and tells me I he could hire me as the interior designer for it. I figure he just hitting on me, but still, if I could get that job, you know, it would be fantastic…" Santana continued, gesturing expressively "he asks me some questions about the club. I answered. Then he asked me to draw this… I took it back from his body before the police arrived, after Kurt found the body..."

The Latina removes a napkin from her back pocket, and hands it dismissively to Rachel. Rachel stares at it confusedly "a floor plan for the club".

"Yes" Santana says, sorrowfully "I drew him a floor plan of the club".

"Why isn't it finished, though?" Rachel asks, leaning her head to the side, still inspecting it.

"Finn interrupted us, whatever" she signals that that part isn't important "anyway, do you see the x mark there?" Santana leaned over Rachel and points the aforementioned mark.

"Over my office?" Rachel made sure and Santana nodded, seriously.

"I didn't draw that" Santana finally says.

"Then who?..." Rachel started asking, but then the realization makes her question die in her lips.

"He did".

There was a moment of silence. Rachel bit her lower lip "Santana, why didn't you tell this sooner? You were just with Quinn yesterday…"

"Quinn would have killed me. You're more understanding than she is. Oh, and I'm sorry, Rach, I promise you I won't draw floor plans to strangers ever again!".

w~~~~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~~w

"Hey babe" Quinn greeted, wearily, as she entered Rachel's apartment, taking her jacket off and hanging it on the hanger.

Rachel was sitting on the living room couch, strangely stiffen, hands on her lap, looking at Quinn. The blonde immediately noticed something was not okay. She steps toward the living room, eyeing Rachel attentively "what's wrong?" she asked with that hint of compassion and softness that she reserved for the brunette and no one else.

"I have to show you something. You have to promise me you won't freak out" Rachel replied, looking straight at concerned hazel eyes.

"I promise no such thing" Quinn answered, promptly, as she approached Rachel. She fondled her hair, softening her voice once more "but tell me what's wrong".

Rachel sighed heavily, before looking down at the napkin placed on top of her coffee table as if finding the courage to show it to Quinn. Then, slowly, she reached for it and handed it to her girlfriend.

Quinn's eyebrows changed from heavily frowned to completely raised "what's this?" her voice is no longer soft.

"Santana draw that for Karofsky" Rachel explained, in a mumble.

"What? Is she crazy? I'm going to kill her!" Quinn yelled, angrily.

"Please, don't, she's already scared enough".

Quinn lifted her eyes from the napkin, her forehead furrowed intensely "the x mark?" she demanded to know.

"She didn't draw it" Rachel replied, carefully "he did".

There was a moment where Quinn stared bugged eyed to the napkin again. Then she straightened herself up and started looking for her phone in her purse "I'm calling agent Abrams right now".  
"What? No" Rachel jumped to her feet, holding her girlfriend's hand "why would you do that?".

Quinn stared incredulously at her "Rachel, do you not understand what this means? The X mark usually marks a goal. The goal was your office. What could be in your office that that dead guy could possibly want?".

"I don't know".  
"You" Quinn answered, with an expression of disbelief that Rachel hadn't arrived to that conclusion yet "you, Rachel. You heard the agent; he said that the gun used is often used by the mob. Don't you think this is an awful lot of coincidence?".

"Quinn, you're making a way to big deal out of nothing. You don't know any of what you're saying" Rachel hurried to state, dismissively, shaking her head, as if she didn't want to believe what was being said.

"Seriously, Rachel, don't you understand it? They're back" Quinn practically yelled, as she yanked her hand out of Rachel's grasp and reached for her phone, dialling the agent's number.

"You're making assumptions!" Rachel was starting to get mad "and I don't want the police fussing over this!".

"Rachel, I know you might not really appreciate what I'm doing right know, but if they are indeed back, we can't pretend like they're not. It's too fucking dangerous. You know how dangerous they are" Quinn suddenly interrupted herself and talked to her phone "hello, Agent Abrams?".


	7. Chapter 6

Tina Cohen-Chang and Arthur Abrams sat in the living room couch of Rachel's apartment, curiously looking around the room. Rachel felt like their interest by her decoration was only a way to hide their uncomfortableness about just being there, sitting, while they all waited for Quinn.

Quinn came from the kitchen, serving them coffee. They politely thanked her and – as professionals they were – they didn't push the conversation, even though it was 10pm and Quinn had made them come all the way there.

Finally Quinn, pausing first as to ask for Rachel's permission, handed Agent Cohen-Chang the napkin. Agent Abrams looked over his partner shoulder, curiously "a plan to the club" he recognized, naturally.

Quinn looked at Rachel, who was cross-armed in the couch by her side. It was hard to tell if Rachel was mad at her or just unpleased with the entire situation.

"It was handed to me anonymously from the person who drew it for Karofsky in the night of his murder" Rachel explained, calmly.

"So Karofsky was indeed at your club that night. Someone drew him a floor plan. And no one saw him?" Abrams asked, sarcastically, as he took the napkin from his partner hands and inspected it closely.

"The X mark marks Rachel's office" Quinn explained, ignoring Agent Abrams' remark.

"And why do you think that is?" Abrams asked her.

"I think he was after Rachel".

Arthur Abrams took a moment to look at the aforementioned woman, before looking back at Quinn "and why do you think _that_ is?" .

Quinn hesitated. She bit her lower lip and turned her head towards her girlfriend "Rach, do you want me to?..."

"It's okay" Rachel answered, as she straightened herself up, ready to pick up from there "I'll tell them".

The agents waited patiently, as the brunette seemed to wonder where to start.

"I have an older brother. His name is Tommy, Tommy Berry. He involved himself in some businesses with the mob, some years ago. I can't tell you what kind of businesses, because, even I, can only imagine what type. It didn't go well. He ended up owing a lot of money".

"To the mob?" Agent Cohen-Chang made sure.  
"Yes. He ran away fearing for his life, obviously. That was when the mob came after me..."

"When was that?".  
"About two years ago" Rachel answered, promptly "I'm Tommy's only live relative and I guess they knew it was the best way to get him to show up. He did, as soon as he knew that I was in danger" Rachel her voice, closing her eyes for a moment, shaking her head slightly "I begged him to tell the police, I begged him so many times, but he didn't want to because, obviously, he would go to jail too. I wasn't going to let him give himself away to the mob, they would kill him, but, one day, he was gone. And so were the mobsters".

"Have you heard from him since he disappeared?".

"I got a phone call from him, about two weeks later. He only told me that he was okay and not to worry about him. I have no idea how he got the mobsters to step away or what he is doing now".

"He probably made a deal with the mob. Work for them to pay off his debt".  
"Yeah, I figured that" Rachel dropped her eyes, so that no one could see a fat tear that was assaulting them. Quinn, though, saw it, and she brushed her hand against Rachel's back trying to comfort her.

"So you think the mob is after you again?" Agent Cohen-Chang asked in conclusion.

"What do you think?" Quinn replied.

"It's possible. But if David Karofsky was really sent by the mob to hurt or even kill Ms Berry, why is he the one dead?" Agent Abrams wisely enquired.

Nobody was able to answer that.

"Is your office assessable for non-staff people, on a normal night at the club?".

"Not really. Matt usually stands at the door".

"So if Karofsky indeed wanted to get to you, he would have to get pass by Matt Rutherford?"

"Unless Matt wasn't at the door. He only leaves for five minutes every hour for a general round at the club".

There was a pause.

"Does anybody else know about this? About your incident with the mob?" Agent Cohen-Chang enquired.

"Yes".

"Who?".

"Everyone at the club" Rachel answered, shrugging.

"Everyone?" Agent Abrams eyebrows shot to his hair-line.

"Yes. When it happened we had to be extra-careful with security at the club…".

"By the way, do you have any updates on Kurt?" Rachel remembered, anxiously.

"Mr Hummel will be released next morning. We have proves that he escaped to the next door gay bar around the time of the murder".

After a few phone calls, Agent Abrams got two police officers to stake out Rachel's apartment door for that night. He told them he would find someone to protect them in the next day.

w~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~w

"Quinn?".

They were lying in bed, even though in opposite sides of it.

"Yes, Rachel?" Quinn softly answered.

"I'm sorry for being so harsh with you lately" she mumbled, bluntly, regret transpiring in her voice.

"You don't have to apologize" Quinn rolled to look at Rachel "you're stressed and I love you".

"I love you too" Rachel whispered "so much".

"I know".

Rachel turned so that she was now facing her girlfriend, their faces only inches away from each other. Rachel stared deeply into those complex warm hazel eyes "do you know why Jacob and Kurt thought you could have killed Karofsky?".

"Because they think I'm a cold bitch?" Quinn asked, sardonically.

"No, because they know there's nothing you wouldn't do to protect me".

Quinn fell momentarily in to silence "and they're right" she mumbled.

"So we're okay? I want us to be a united front on this. We shouldn't be fighting" Rachel continued, with a sweet smile.  
"Of course, babe. You're everything to me".

w~~~~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~w

The next day, Quinn and Rachel got the authorisation to open the club.

It was hectic inside the club, that afternoon. People running around, making sure everything was perfect. It was like first day all over again. No one really knew what the murder would do to their popularity and everyone was really curious to find out.

It was about seven o'clock when an Asian tall skinny man stepped inside the busy club. He was wearing an impeccable tailored and expensive looking grey suit, without any tie. He took his sun glasses off and looked around _Salt _curiously, with a hint of a smile in his thin lips, apparently amused at the anxiety of the people running around.

Finn recognised him from the moment he stepped inside. He also couldn't stop himself from grinning; he had to admit, the man had perseverance. And some nerve to appear there after the entire "situation".

"Mr Chang".

"Mr Hudson" the man greeted back, with a pompous smile "I'm here to talk business" he announced, promptly.

"I figured" Finn chuckled, leaning his head to the side "well, you know the drill, I'm not the one who has a say on it".

"As usual" he threw him a condescending smile "where's your sister, then?".

Finn walked him over to Quinn, who was leaning against the bar counter, helping Jesse with the sound-check of his DJ Booth. Quinn immediately stiffened as she recognised the entrepreneur – seriously, did he never gave up?

"Mr Chang".

"Ms Fabray" the usual cold greeting "so, I'm here to make you another offer".

"Oh, really?" Quinn asked, dryly "and may I ask how much money did we win with the murder?" she added, jokingly.

"It's a smaller offer" he grinned "the place is under a cloud. It's the time to sell it, before anything worse happens…"

"Clever, insinuating that you had anything to do with the dead body to intimidate us to sell" Finn stated, sardonically, still standing behind him, hearing their conversation.

"Have something to do?" Mike asked, amused, shaking his head "never. Take advantage of? Absolutely".

"Well, as usual, I'll have to _politely_ refuse the offer. The club's not for sell. But the alcohol is, so I hope to see you tonight buying that" Quinn told him, coldly.

"You're stubborn" he commented.

"Likewise".

"That's why I think we could make an incredible deal. We have business chemistry" he joked, gesturing the both of them with his index finger.

Quinn was not entertained "Mr Chang, this is honestly getting very tiring. I told you neither I nor Rachel are interested in selling our shares of the club, let alone both of us. We like it here and we're planning on staying here for a long time".

"All right, that would be enough for today. But I'll be back. In the meanwhile…" leaning forwards, Mike Chang approached his lips from Quinn's ear, as he slipped her a piece of paper "here's my number".

And then he was gone. Quinn was still slightly taken back with the piece of paper he had given her and Finn looking at her appearing half-confused and half-uncomfortable with the situation.


	8. Chapter 7

"He came here, again?" Rachel asked, incredulously, as she followed Quinn inside her office.  
"Yeah, he thought we would want to sell the club after the murder thing. Idiot" Quinn said, as she closed the door behind them, for privacy "he thinks we don't know that the murder was, actually, publicity to the place. I'm telling you, Rach, the club will be packed tonight".

Rachel fell on the couch, still slightly uncomfortable to talk about what a man's death had brought to their favour. Even if the man was sent after her. She definitely had to figure out where she stood on all of that.

"I hope you told him we're not thinking about selling club in the near future" Rachel commented, crossing her legs.

Quinn sat at her side with a satisfied grin "I told him we're not thinking about selling the club at all" she informed her, proudly.

Rachel's eyebrows shot to her hair line. She seemed slightly disturbed by that remark "at all?" she asked, lowering her voice a little bit.

Quinn looked confusedly at her "well, yeah, isn't that what?..."  
"I don't see us selling anytime soon, but I like to thing that, someday, you and me, we'll…" Rachel didn't continue.  
"We'll what?".

Rachel seemed to blush "settle down. You know, change for a… calmer life. I don't know if I want to have kids while I'm working at a night club…"

"Have kids?" Quinn asked, completely caught by surprise. Unconsciously she was leaning forward, closer to Rachel. She immediately regretted having repeated that part, because Rachel was apparently mistaking her surprise by shock – in a bad way.

Rachel was already trying to change the subject – feeling stupid about having mentioned it in the first place – but Quinn wasn't going to let her get out that easily.

"Wait, Rach, you were talking about having kids. You know I would like to have kids. Is that how you feel?" she asked her, softly.

Rachel blushed again "well, yes, someday".  
"With me?" Quinn made sure.

With that, Rachel's face lightened up with an amused and sweet smile "of course with you, silly. Who else?".

Quinn was very pleased with her response.

"You're right about what you said about working in a night club and having kids. I guess I never really thought about it. Maybe we could sell it and buy something more…"

"Responsible".

"Educational".

"That's a good plan".

Suddenly, as she was looking deeply at Rachel's eyes, Quinn was very aware of the engagement ring that was still hidden in her purse, waiting for its time. Could it be now? An incovinient knock on the office door threw that hypothesis away.

Rachel seemed startled by the knock too. It was easy for her to get lost in those hazel eyes she craved for every minute of her life.

"Yes?".

"Can we come in?" it was Jesse's voice.

Jesse was accompanied by Brittany. They were both a little flushed, with messy hair, and his lips were stained with her lipstick. It was pretty obvious what they had been doing.  
"What's up?" Quinn asked, controlling a grin.

"Well, I was just…" he hesitated on the word "talking to Brit when she told me something that I thought you guys should know".

Quinn and Rachel's eyes turned expectantly to the coat girl, who just stood there looking at Jesse with a passionate expression, as if everything he said was pure poetry.

She snapped out of her transe, once she felt everyone waiting for her to talk.

"So, the dead guy?" Brittany started "I kind of had a conversation with him".

"And you didn't tell the police?" Quinn was rolling her eyes.

"Well, it was what they discussed that was important" Jesse explained.

"And because this is Brittany we're talking about, we're talking about sex" Quinn added.

"That's mostly true" the blonde acknowledged, nodding thoughtfully.

"So what did you talk to him about?" Rachel encouraged the girl to continue, because you never wanted to let Brittany go on the adventure of thinking.

"You know how me and Jesse are so in love?" she asked, grinning at her boyfriend, as she held his arm "well, we sometimes find it hard to spend the entire night in the same room without being able to…"  
"Have sex" Quinn completed, naturally.

"Right, so we had to find a place where we could enjoy more privacy, and that was what I was telling the dead guy…".

"What's the place?" Quinn interrupted.

"It's the lost and found room. Nobody ever goes there during the nights. Plus, it's almost sound proof, and I'm very vocal when…"  
"Okay, I think you've made your point, Brit" Jesse interrupted, slightly embarrassed.

w~~~~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~~w

"Even Matt when he does his rounds, he never checks this place" Brittany was saying, wisely, as she opened the lost and found room's light and they all walked inside.

Quinn carefully inspected the room with her eyes.

"What does this mean?" Rachel mumbled to her.

"I think that Karofsky hid here waiting for Matt to leave your office door to do his general rounds, so that he could get in to your office. It's only two doors away".

"What stopped him, then?" Rachel questioned, thoughtfully.  
"Someone did" Quinn answered, cryptically.

"We have to tell to the police. They might find some evidences here" Rachel announced, looking back to one sheepishly looking Brittany "why didn't you tell them you talked to Karofsky?".

"Well, Jesse said that you probably were involved in this guy's murder and that we should do everything we can to impede the investigation" Brittany stared confusedly at them "was that wrong? Because it _felt_ right".

Quinn sighed, as she stepped outside the small room. It was hard for her to get mad at them.

w~~~~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~~w

"Rach. Wake up. You fell asleep".

Quinn's soft voice penetrated Rachel's dreams, until she understood that her girlfriend was actually by her side, shaking her softly. When Rachel opened her eyes, she took a moment to realize she was in her living room couch. Then she remembered she had stayed there waiting for Quinn to arrive – the blonde had met with the agents to tell them about what Brittany had told them – and eventually fell asleep.

"Hum…" Rachel yawned, as Quinn fondled her hair "I was waiting for you".

"Well, I'm here now, babe, so let's go to bed" Quinn softly said, as she intertwined their fingers together and she pulled Rachel to her feet.

"What did the agents say?" Rachel asked, still foggy from her sleep.

"They were annoyed. As I thought they would be. But their going to send a team first thing tomorrow to look for any evidences in the lost and found room" Quinn lead Rachel to bed and let her fall over it. Rachel curled over the sheets, hugging a pillow.

Quinn took her clothes off "seriously, I don't know if I should be more mad that everyone thinks that we killed the man or touched that they are all trying to help us get away with it".

"They love us" Rachel mumbled, sleepily.  
"Yeah" Quinn said, dismissively "they still think we killed him".

"Mmmmm…" Rachel commented, vaguely. Quinn joined her in bed. Rachel curled against her. The blonde kissed her nose, affectionately.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked, her eyes still closed

"Hum?" Quinn was staring up at the ceiling, one hand around Rachel's shoulders and other behind her own head, thoughtfully.

"Are you up?" she asked in a whisper.

Quinn giggled "yes".

Rachel's eyes opened and they were of a darker shade than usual. Quinn knew what that meant – and she liked it.

Rachel crawled on top of her, slowly and provocatively. She captured Quinn's lips in a moist, passionate kiss. Quinn was only wearing her underwear and over it a very short pair of shorts and that allowed Rachel to explore the softness and warmness of her skin, as their tongues duelled against each other. Rachel trapped Quinn's lower lip between her teeth, provoking a low moan on the blonde. And then the atmosphere is set. The atmosphere of desire, excitement, craving, longing, love, despair… it's the most beautiful combination of feelings and it's most overwhelming for them.

Rachel toes curled when Quinn kissed her neck. She letted out a pleased moan between her smiling lips. Rachel's hand was tangled in Quinn's hair, anchoring her to her body. Quinn's desire resulted in her biting her and Rachel gasps, the air completely knocked out of her lungs. When her teeth scrap down Rachel's throat she shivered intensely, rolling her eyes. Quinn was kissing her collarbone, when Rachel pulled her face up to meet her lips again.

Quinn's hand scrapped Rachel's abs, bellow her shirt. Tentatively, she slid on of her hands inside Rachel's pants and experiments the moist warmness inside. Rachel moaned against her lips.

Quinn teased Rachel's clit and she felt as the girl's muscles clench. She presses harder and her entire body shudders, accompanied by a throaty moan. Quinn kissed Rachel's lips as she slides two fingers inside Rachel. She then slides a third one.

Rachel's head fell backwards, and she sighed, closing her eyes. Her hips grind against Quinn's fingers. She dictates the pace.

Quinn stared at Rachel's face because – even though she always finds her breathtakingly beautiful – she still can't get over the fact of how drop-dead-gorgeous breathtakingly beautiful her girlfriend is when she comes.

Rachel grinds and, as the pace starts getting quicker and quicker, Quinn understands she's close to the edge and she presses her thumb against Rachel's clit and that succeeded in making the brunette let out a loud moan followed by another quieter, but again increasing as she gets closer and closer.

Finally, with a loud cry, Rachel stops moving and she falls forwards. Rachel's forehead rests against Quinn's nose as the brunette gains her senses back, her eyes shut and quietly but quickly panting. The feeling of Rachel breathing against her warms her heart in every aspect of the word and Quinn feels completely intoxicated by the moment.

A little breathlessly, Quinn stared down at the woman that means life to her. Without Rachel, Quinn would be dead.

"Marry me" the words escape without really being thought through, but Quinn doesn't regret them.

That succeeded in bringing Rachel back to her senses as she looks up immediately.

It was not an elaborated proposal. It wasn't as if Quinn had spent the last few weeks preparing every little detail of it. There were no flowers, a dashing view of the city, a romantic dinner, a knee on the floor, a speech about how life together was just right, there was nothing. But it was so Quinn. And Quinn was perfect.

"Yes" Rachel answered, as a smile crept to her lips and she kissed her girlfriend – no, her fiancé – ardently.

w~~~~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~~w

Quinn bent down a gently placed a kiss on Rachel's naked shoulder. The brunette was still asleep, but she stirred, finally starting to wake up.

"Mmmm…" she mumbled, grinning, her eyes still closed "where are you going?".

"I have to go to the club. The forensic team is already waiting for me" Quinn explained, as she tried to put her watch on her wrist.

"Oh" Rachel sat up "I'll go with you".

"No, babe, it's okay. Just stay here and rest" Quinn was still struggling with her watch. Rachel reached for her wrist and helped her.  
"It seems like you've been handling everything…" Rachel commented, guiltily.

"It's to make up for the time I'm not here and you have to handle everything" Quinn said, smiling cheekily, as Rachel worked on the watch.

Rachel's heart clenched, as she remembered something. She dropped her eyes "when are you leaving to Miami?". Quinn was supposed to have been back in Miami for a day now, but they hadn't really discussed that subject yet.

"Not until this is all resolved" Quinn assured her, before smacking Rachel on the lips affectionately.


	9. Chapter 8

Santana wasn't dumb. No, actually, bellow all the shallowness and intended indifference to other people, she was a quite perceptive person. She read people like open books.

And so, she saw it all coming.

She was watching when Rachel stepped inside the club. She watched as Quinn – who was already there because she had needed to come early to open the club's doors to the forensic team – who was standing next to Finn, engaged in a conversation, looked up to see her coming in and she clearly saw the twinkle of adoration in the woman's eyes. It was no secret that Quinn loved Rachel more than anything in life – even someone as imperceptive as Santana was soft-spoken could see that – but Santana noticed something slightly different. Rachel stared back at Quinn with the same look, before grinning mysteriously, as if they knew something that no one else did. She stopped to chat with Kurt, who was reporting back to work after being let go by the police. You got to admire his loyalty. He was arrested for trying to help his bosses get away with a crime (even if they hadn't commit it) and very next day of that traumatizing and surely intense experience, he was back to the club, ready to work.

Finn also looked up to stare at Rachel – with those characteristic abandoned puppy eyes –, but Santana wasn't concentrated in him, at that moment. Something was up between Rachel and Quinn and it unsettled her that she didn't know what. She had to know everything.

So Santana had her eyes wide open for the rest of the day. The knowing glares they exchanged, the mysterious smiles, the general peace that involved them that she did not remember having felt in them the day before.

~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~w

"Hey" Quinn greeted, as she came inside Rachel's office, when the brunette was checking the profit from the night before. It was huge. One of the club's best nights. When Quinn had told Rachel that the club wasn't going to lose any popularity with the murder story – it was even going to gain it – Rachel had been suspicious, but, once again, it was proved that Quinn knew it better.

Rachel looked up and a foolish smile crept to her lips, as she immediately stood up "hey" she greeted back, her arms involving the blonde's neck as she pulled her in for a lingering kiss.

"I was just here to tell you that the forensic team only found some sort of fibre in the Lost and Found room. They're not sure if Karofsky was ever there" Quinn informed her "they're going to the lab to analyze it. Agent Abrams says that he will keep us informed".

"Right" Rachel nodded and almost felt bad for the sudden change of subject, but she needed to make sure "about the… engagement" Quinn liked how that word produced some sort of twinkle in her fiancé's eyes "we agreed not to say anything, right?".

"Yes. For now. Just until everything goes back to normal".

~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~w

It only clicked with Santana at night – right when the club was about to open to public – when she, Finn and Quinn were talking. Rachel approached them, intertwined her fingers with Quinn's and they both looked at each other that _way _they had been looking at each other the entire _damn_ day.

Realization came to her in form of a shriek "oh my God! You did it, didn't you?" it was for Quinn. Quinn turned her face to look at her, confusedly "you proposed!".

What happened next was too fast for Rachel or Quinn to grasp. As Finn stared incredulously and mortifyingly at them, Santana was jumping on Rachel, involving in a breathtaking hug, Kurt was appearing from nowhere to congratulate Quinn and ask for details about the wedding, Brittany appeared running out of the coatroom jumping, clapping and shrieking. Jesse came down from his DJ booth to offer his services for the wedding while Jacob actually informed them he was going to be offended if he didn't cater for it.

When Rachel felt like she had hugged everyone in the room – twice each – she finally turned to the only person who hadn't yet pronounced himself about the occasion. Finn was still standing there, looking at them, with an impossible to read expression.

Silence fell on the room, as everyone waited for his reaction. Quinn was the one who stepped up and hugged him. His expression softened a little bit, even though it still looked utterly perplexed "congratulations" he managed to mumble. Then he turned to Rachel, without knowing what to say or do. Finally, he opened his arms and took her in with a tight hug "I'm so happy for you" and, strangely, he wasn't completely lying.

~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~~w

Now that Santana had blurted out and let everyone know, there was really no reason why Rachel shouldn't wear her ring. Especially because it was the single most beautiful object she had seen in her life – it was made of titanium and had two bands with diamonds all across them. It was simply everything Rachel had dreamed and more.

So, as Rachel nonchalantly greeted the two officers who were staking out her apartment, she couldn't help but to gaze her ring as she opened her door.

Inside her apartment, Rachel dropped the groceries bags on the kitchen counter – she had planned on making dinner to Quinn that night – and absentmindedly walked to the bedroom, to change into something more comfortable.

It was once inside the room, when Rachel was about to tug her top over her head that she saw something from the corner of her eye. The closet door was slightly opened and Rachel could swear she had seen something… move in there.

Rachel immediately tugged her shirt back down. Panic started to boil inside her, but strangely, so did the adrenaline. Someone was in her closet. She was sure. She had seen a movement inside and now there was that loud silence of someone trying to make as much silence as possible. But maybe she was freaking herself out. But, just in case, Rachel tried to remember what she had learned in that self-defence class she and Quinn had took. She damned the fact that Quinn was wearing those spandex shorts that day and that Rachel hadn't probably heard a word of what the manly looking woman was teaching them.

Rachel bent down and reached for her tennis racket, which was under her bed. It was pink and not very threatening looking, but it was something. She gripped the racket hard as she felt her heart race to a million beats a minute. Slowly, she approached the closet.

"Who's in there?" she mumbled, forcing confidence in her voice. It didn't go through. Her voice was slightly shaky.

"Rachel, it's me" the door opened and a dark haired man stepped out.  
"Tommy?".

"Why were you hiding in the closet?" Rachel shrieked, as she continuality punched his arms. Tommy protected himself, but didn't push her away. He actually seemed kind of amused.

"I didn't know if it was you or Quinn" Tommy explained, shrugging.  
"God! Do you know the panic you made me go through?" she yelled, as she turned around, crossing her arms, madly, feeling her heart still beating like crazy from the scare.

"I'm sorry" he laughed, as he reached for his little sister, squeezing her shoulder "but it was kind of funny to see how your instincts work. Tennis racket, uh?" he asked, with his mocking tone.

"Grrrr!..." Rachel snorted "you…" she searched for the word

"Lovely brother that I miss so intensely?" he tried, raising one eyebrow.  
"Yes and idiot" Rachel replied. She suddenly remembered she hadn't seen him in too long. She hugged him and, in his arms, she felt her body relax "what are you doing here?".

His expression immediately darkened as the seriousness eventually had to come. He stepped back, frowning slightly, as he gestured her the bed "I think you know why I'm here" he mumbled, sitting over it, and sighing.

"Karofsky" Rachel stated, looking at him intensely. So it was true. Karofsky had been after her.

"You were always the smart one, sis" he smiled, sadly.

"So it's true? The mob is back" Rachel asked and, weirdly, she didn't feel more scared than she already was. She always knew that it was it. She was just now having the confirmation "and they're after me".

"I tried my best to keep you out of this" Tommy shook his head, reprehensively, pain transpiring on his voice "I really did, Rach. I hope you know that. You are everything to me. You are my family…" Rachel brushed her hand on Tommy's shoulder "I did everything I could. I did everything they wanted me to do. I paid my dues to them…"

"What happened then?".

"I made the mistake to think that, once I had paid my debt, I didn't have to work for them anymore. I tried to quit but they didn't let me, so I ran away. When I knew…" his voice failed a little and he closed his eyes in an attempt to control the anger and disgust that he felt "when I heard about how they sent Karofsky after you I came immediately. I've been following you around…"  
"Why?".

"Because you need protection" Tommy answered, promptly.  
"I have protection" Rachel replied, rolling her eyes.  
"What, those gorillas at the door?" Tommy gestured, ironically "if the mob wanted to get to you they would, just how I did".

Rachel frowned, suddenly realizing that Tommy was inside her apartment "how did you get in, anyway?".  
"I broke in the apartment over this one and jumped to your balcony" he explained, naturally. Rachel cringed just by thinking of her brother performing such manoeuvres "oh, please, trust me, Rach, I've done worst".

Rachel's body suddenly tensed. She looked down and bit her lower lip "so you killed him?" it was difficult to try to understand what she was feeling, at that moment. Of course she was thankful – she would have been dead if he hadn't done so– but just thinking about her brother murdering someone made her utterly sick. She was also supposing he hadn't murdered anyone before, which was probably not wise of her part – he had worked for the mob for two years.

"Who?" Tommy asked, confusedly.

"Karofsky" Rachel looked up, frowning at the fact that he hadn't picked up on that.  
"Who, me? No, Rach, I didn't do it" Tommy replied, shaking his palms open in innocence.

"You can tell me the truth. I'm not a baby anymore. You don't have to distort the truth to make me feel good" Rachel protested, testily.  
"Rachel, I didn't do it. Make not mistake, I would have, for sure. I wished I had. But I only arrived the day after Karofsky was found dead".

"What? If you didn't do it, how come is dead?" Rachel asked, suspiciously.

"I don't know" Tommy shrugged, dismissively "I'm just thankful".

"I don't understand" Rachel said but her confusion was interrupted by the sound of someone walking inside the apartment.

"Hey" Quinn's voice called, from the living room.

~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~w

"Rachel, are you crazy?" Quinn's voice was at a controlled volume, but her exasperation was very noticeable "he can't stay here! He's in the damn mob!".

"Not anymore" Rachel corrected, patiently "I told you he left it about a few months ago…"

"Great, he's an ex-mobster. How is that supposed to make me feel better?" Quinn asked, sceptically, as she planted her hands in her hips "besides, let's not forget, he's the one responsible for everything that it's happening! And who guarantees me that he isn't the one they're looking for?".

"They want him to work for them again. They know that my security is the only thing he would tray for that. He wouldn't tray his".

"Rachel, this is insane. He can't spend the night here".  
"I would really feel better if you let him spend the night" Rachel informed her, patiently. She knew that with Quinn there was a certain way to put things into perspective.

"Why? He's a big guy, he can take care of himself" Quinn snorted.  
"Well, not just about him, but about us too. He's been watching us, Quinn, he's been protecting us" Rachel reasoned, wearily.  
"Yes, and I appreciate it. I do. God knows what would have happened if he hadn't caught Karofsky, but, seriously…"  
"He didn't kill Karofsky" Rachel corrected her.

Quinn snorted, sceptically "right".

"No, I'm serious, he didn't. Believe me".

Quinn sat at the edge of her bed, pressing her palm against her forehead "baby, I believe that he told you he didn't do it, but…"

"No, he told me he didn't do it and he didn't. He wouldn't lie about it".

Quinn corner's mouth twitched "he would lie to protect you…"

"Quinn, I'm aware of that. But, I'm telling you, I looked him in the eye and I know when my brother lies. He was dead serious. He even said he would have killed him, if he had got to him before… whomever did".  
"So we're supposed to believe that there is another charming knight looking after us?" Quinn asked.

"I don't know what happened, Quinn, I just know my brother didn't do it".

Quinn sighed, defeated. Rachel sat by her side, resting her hand in Quinn's thigh, massaging slightly, waiting for the blonde to give her an answer.  
"Just for tonight" Quinn finally mumbled. Rachel kissed her, gently.  
"Thank you".


	10. Chapter 9

When Quinn stepped out of the room, she had completely forgotten about the visitor who had slept in the living room couch. She hadn't realized she was down to her underwear until she saw him – sitting on the couch, slightly messy hair and sleepy eyes. Tommy politely looked away.

Quinn then walked inside her bedroom again to put some more clothes on, before coming out again. It wasn't as if she wasn't used about people looking at her in her underwear – she was a model – but it was her house and it was her fiancé's brother.

"Good morning" he then greets, still sitting unusually straight in the couch.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?" Quinn asked, conversationally, even though her tone was slightly reserved, maybe even cold.  
"Great" he answered, politely.

"Great" she repeated, as she came inside the kitchen "are you hungry?" she asked, raising her voice for him to hear.

"Hum… sure" she heard him answer.

Quinn started making them pancakes. If he's anything like his sister, he will love that. She was surprised to see him coming inside the kitchen. He carefully leaned against the kitchen counter and stared at Quinn hesitantly, cross-armed.

"Do you like pancakes?" Quinn decided to ask, because the silence is unsettling.

He seemed to wake up from his train of thought "hum?... oh, sure. Absolutely. Love them".

"Good" Quinn commented, at lack of something else to say. Tommy is the one breaking the silence that had settled between them.

"I guess I haven't properly congratulated you. On the engagement" Tommy started "I'm really happy for Rachel".

"I appreciate that" Quinn replied, concentrated on the pancakes.

"I haven't really had the chance to thank you either" he says, thoughtfully.

"About what?".

"About… making my sister happy. About taking care of her. I love Rachel to death and it kills me that I can't be around her and protect her, all the time. I find it slightly comforting that she has you" Tommy explained, scratching his elbow and looking down to the floor.

Quinn didn't say anything.

"And… I'm aware that, first, it was kind of a shock to me. Well, not really a shock, but it was surprising… I mean, when you started dating my sister. Because, you know, she had never dated a…"

"Woman?".

"Before, no. But I've never seen Rachel so happy as when she's with you. There's not a doubt in my mind that you two should be together. And that's why I can't even express how ecstatic I was when Rachel told me you were engaged".

There was another silence.

"I guess that's what I wanted to tell you" Tommy finally finished, shifting his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably "that you have my blessing".

Quinn looked up at him – for the first time since he started speaking – with arched eyebrows. He seemed intimidated and hurried to correct himself "not that you need it, of course. I'm just saying you have it".

Quinn softened, concentrating again on the pancakes "I appreciate that" she repeated.

Rachel appeared inside the room. She touched Tommy warmly as she passed by him, but she was directing herself toward Quinn. She hugged her waist from behind, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Tommy could see has Quinn practically melted there. He liked that his sister was with someone who cared that much about her. All of the tension Tommy had created seemed to ease out of the blonde's body.

"What are you guys chatting about?" Rachel asked, curiously looking at what Quinn was making "pancakes!" she shrieked.

~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~w

There was a gentle knock on Finn's office. Finn instinctively knew who it was – nobody bothered knocking but her – and he jumped to his feet "Rachel, come in".

He was right. Rachel waited for him to open her the door and she smiled friendly – causing his heart to stop – before stepping inside "do you have already the profit estimation from last night?" she asked, as she curiously looked around the room.

"Yes, of course, is right on top of my desk" Finn replied, gesturing the furniture. Rachel approached his desk and sat behind it. She took one simple curious look at Finn's estimation, before her eyebrows raised in a surprised – and pleased – way.

"Wow".

"I know. We've been having the best week in a long time" Finn mumbled, slightly shrugging, and approaching the desk.

"Firstly I thought it was just a coincidence, but it's been like that every day since the… _happening. _People really are sick" Rachel commented, as she licked her lips, eyes still focused on the paper.  
"I agree" Finn chuckled "listen, do you have the number of Agent Abrams? Because I got a message from Pucky Puck saying that he was going to stop by tomorrow, and I think he should know".

"Sure" Rachel said, as she yanked a piece of paper from the pile Finn had over his desk "do you have a pen?" before Finn could answer, Rachel opened his desk drawer.

The air was knocked out of her lungs when she found herself staring at a gun. She froze, as if making sure she wasn't hallucinating. Then she looked up. Finn was staring intensely at her, frowning slightly. It was obvious he wasn't happy that she had seen that.

"Finn, why do you have a gun?" Rachel asked, carefully.

Finn got around the desk and closed the drawer, in a clear gesture that Rachel wasn't supposed to have seen that. Rachel got up and walked away, waiting for his answer.

"You don't need to worry about it" he mumbled, gruffly.

"What do you mean I don't need to worry about it? You have a damn gun in your drawer!".

"Rachel, is no big deal. I've had it for a couple years, now" he explained, patiently.

"For a couple of years? Why do you have it?".

Finn sighed. Then he threw a sardonic stare at her "can you blame me?" he asked.

Only then Rachel realized what he was insinuating "Finn…" she sighed "did you get that because of me?".

"Rachel, I said you don't have to worry about it!" Finn snapped, for some reason highly annoyed "you can just concentrate your head on wedding flowers and guests and sitting charts, and let me worry about this type of things".

The way how he brought the wedding up seemed to Rachel that it was intended "are you mad at me?" she asked slightly revolted.

He seemed to freeze with the question "why would I be mad at you?" he asked, wearily.

"I don't know, but you have kind of giving me the cold shoulder since… you know".

"It was a mistake, and I'm sorry to put you in that position" he replied, immediately "but this has nothing to do with it. It's just, honestly, none of your business" he said.  
"Seriously? Because this is my club and that makes it my business. Especially because you apparently have that gun because of me".

"Rachel, is really no big deal. When the mob first came for you, I got this, just in case. It's not really meant for anything else but that. It's about protection. I haven't even used it, ever".

Rachel was slightly more comforted "so you wouldn't use it in any other occasion?" she asked, frowning suspiciously "you wouldn't use it if you were, like, working late and someone broke inside the club? Because that's not okay with me".

"Of course not" Finn assured her.

~~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~~w

"Look at this" Puck said, as he opened his arms as if embracing the room, closing his eyes "can you feel the magic?".

Quinn rolled her eyes, and let herself stay back, leaning against the bar counter, as Rachel and Finn followed Pucky Puck to the stage.

The rapper was wearing a cream suit, with a burgundy tie and dark sunglasses, even though it was around 8pm. He climbed to the stage, exploring it.

"Can you feel it, baby?" Puck asked to Rachel, who was standing there, leaning her head to the side, with an amused tiny grin "this place it's magic".  
"That's an urban myth" Rachel replied, serenely.

"Then how do you explain that any new artist that performed here ascended to fame faster than that guy can get a girl to dump him?" Jacob was walking across the room, oblivious to the remark.

"Maybe it's because we have good taste?" Finn asked, cynically, his arms crossed in a non-very friendly way.

"Hey, I let you know that Jacob Ben Israel is a very nice catch for any woman who…" Rachel protested, but Puck ignored her, concentrating on Finn.

"If you had good taste, you would book me and then each one of my protégées to perform here. And, if you don't, I honestly can't be held responsible for what my brother would do…"

"Yeah, let's get something clear, Puck" Finn spitted, dryly "I won't book you or any of your… protégées, because of your _brotha"._

"So you're just abrasively racist, is that it?" Puck asked, gesturing.

"You're not even black!" Finn cried, but Rachel gestured him to calm himself down.

"Look, what Mr Hudson is saying is that he is concerned with your gang ties, which, as I understand, it isn't really you, but it _is_ your brother Dash".

Puck sighed "look. There's Puck and there's Dash. I'm handsome, ain't I?" he asked directly to Rachel, throwing her one of his charming smiles "which means I'm Puck".

"We cannot risk a gangs' fight bursting inside the club" Rachel explained, patiently "it's not safe".

"Says the woman with a dead guy in the bathroom" Puck noted, ironically.  
"For all we know your brother did it" Finn threw back.

Puck looked at him, slightly amused "when my brother pops someone, he doesn't muffle the shot. If he had been the one doing it, he made sure you knew so".

Quinn, who was still quietly observing the scene from distance, picked up the call from her phone "hello?".

It was Agent Abrams voice "can you meet me at Leo's Diner?".

"Sure. Rachel's just finishing something and we'll be on our way".

"No, I meant just you. I need to talk to you alone".

**No big developments in this chapter, I know. next one will have, I promise you.**


	11. Chapter 10

Quinn was entering Leo's Diner just about fifteen minutes later, feeling slightly nervous about what Agent Abrams wanted to tell or discuss with her.

She spotted him immediately – by himself, Agent Cohen-Chang wasn't around -, sitting on the counter stools of the small diner, his formal suit standing out in the middle of flannel shirted men. His back was turned against the entrance, but when Quinn slipped to the chair by his side he didn't seem startled to see her.

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked, politely, gesturing the waiter at the same time.  
"No, thanks. I've just had it. May I ask what's this about, Agent? I really should get back to the club, we're opening in about an hour" she said, sucking the inside of her cheeks and observing the Agent's face.

"I think you would appreciate the piece of information I have. Well, not appreciate it, but it's better than not knowing".

"Okay…" Quinn commented, unsure.

The waiter placed a cup of coffee in front of the Agent, and he sipped it, relaxingly. Quinn was starting to get restless.

"The fibres we found on the Lost and Found room, they had two different matches" he started, cryptically, being very clear that he wished to take his time actually getting to the point of this meeting.

"Right" Quinn said, hurrying him. She hated the suspense. Just say it.

"One belonged to your girlfriend's… excuse me, fiancé's jacket…"

"Which we told you we found with a bullet hole" Quinn quickly added, just to make sure the agent hadn't forgot about that.

"Right, the jacket that someone – anonymously -" he regarded her annoyingly "burned".

"Right" Quinn felt herself blush, slightly "and what was the other match?" she continued.

"The other fibres we found belonged to a Navy Pinstripe Italian Wool Suit" he explained. Quinn stared at him, blankly "such suit your brother possesses".

Quinn blinked "but that doesn't mean anything, really, does it? Just as someone used Rachel's jacket to muffle the shot, somebody could have used Finn's jacket to do whatever. The lost and found room isn't exactly a highly secured place" Quinn rolled her eyes.

"The type of fibre we found from your brother's suit resulted from some type of friction of the fabric against the carpet. An abrasive brush of the fabric against the floor".

"What does that mean, then?" Quinn furrowed her forehead, confusedly.

Agent Abrams sighed. He seemed to be about to say what he was there to say, finally.

"Quinn…" he looked at her for the first time in what he expected to be a compassionate way "Rachel's having an affair with your brother".

Quinn's eyebrows relaxed and she looked at him incredulously. Then she gasped, with a slightly disgusted expression "you got that wrong".

"The fact that Ms Berry hadn't heard the gunshot had always unsettled me. Seeing that she apparently had no reason to be lying about that fact, I figured she must have been lying about where she was. We believe that Ms Berry and Mr Hudson were in the Lost and Found room engaged in sexual relations, when the murder occurred. The room is slightly sound-proof, which would explain why…".

"Are you implying, no, are you trying to convince me, that Rachel and Finn we're having a quickie on the Lost and Found room's floor?" Quinn cried, the nausea and anger overcoming her and everyone in the diner was now staring at her and she was too furious to care.

"Quinn, I understand this might be a little upsetting, but you have to see that…"

"That's bullshit! That's absolute bullshit!" she yelled, jumping to her feet "how the fuck do you dare saying something like that?" she cried offended.

"Quinn, I have to ask you to calm yourself down…" the agent tried, in a low tone.

"Don't you fucking tell me what to do!" she yelled, pointing her finger accusingly at him "don't you fucking tell me anything! How dare you? You don't know her! You know nothing about me and her, about what we have!".

Agent Abrams didn't even have the time to stand up, as Quinn turned around and left the diner, yanking the door shut behind her.

~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~w

"They tried to convince you that Finn and I were having an affair?" Rachel repeated, shockingly, as Quinn walked back and forth on their bedroom; her anger hadn't vanished even a bit in the last few hours.

"Can you fucking believe it? Why would they do something like that?".

Rachel bit her lower lip "you know that's how they do things. Divide and conquer, haven't you heard that expression? They're probably still convinced that we are involved in the murder – which I can't blame them, having in count all the shenanigans with our staff – and they want you to be mad at me so that you could tell them something to incriminate us".

"That's disgusting!" Quinn snorted "imagine that I believed him. They would be ruining a relationship" the reason that Quinn was so mortified about that was the thought that she might have believed it – if she didn't know Rachel and their relationship better – and so they would have ruined the most important thing in her life. It was revolting and sickening for her.

"They have their priorities…" Rachel shrugged, dismissively.

"I can't believe you're defending him!" Quinn cried, revolted "I thought you would be even more angry that I am!".

"I'm not defending him, Quinn" Rachel reasoned "I'm just saying that I understand why he did what he did. Plus, it made no harm, because you trust me, don't you?".

"Of course. You would never do something like that to me" Quinn replied, a little more calmed down, sighing.

"You know…" Rachel started, hesitantly "it's not irrational for you to… sometimes be a little jealous".

Quinn looked up, eyes mirroring her surprise and shock "what are you talking about?".

Rachel approached the blonde, running her hand through her hair affectionately, leaning her head slightly to the side "Finn's a good-looking man. You spend a lot of time away. I always dated men before and I understand if that brings you some type of insecurity".

"Rachel, I know that you would never do something like that to me!" Quinn repeated, slightly disturbed that Rachel was voicing her deeper insecurities.

"I know you trust me, but it's natural to, sometimes, wonder… you know. I know you would never do something like that to me too, and I sometimes think…"

"That I could be cheating on you?".

"You spend a lot of time away, sexy models all around you…" Rachel smiled shyly "I don't think there's any chance that you would cheat on me, but I do get jealous sometimes. I think it's healthy. It's something that happens in a healthy relationship".

Quinn stared at her "you really get jealous?".

"Irrationally so" Rachel admitted, with a tiny smile.

"I don't know if I like that" Quinn commented, dropping her eyes.

"Well, don't you?" Rachel insisted, patiently.

Quinn didn't answer immediately "really deep inside me, maybe. In my completely irrational and instinctive parts".

"There" Rachel smiled, pleased "that's good".

"You think? I feel guilty about it" Quinn said.

"Don't be. I love you and I love that you are possessive of me" Rachel grinned before kissing Quinn.

~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~w

"Come in" Rachel called, after a polite knock on her office's door sounded.

She was surprised to see Puck stepping inside the room, hesitantly. He paused, as he was about to close the door behind him "is it okay if I come in?" he asked, as if he feared that Rachel was scared of him. Rachel had seen enough of Pucky Puck to know that – despite his brother's gang ties – he was more talk than anything.

"Yes, sure" Rachel said as she gestured him the chair on the other side of her desk.

Puck slowly made his way to it, sitting comfortably, as he looked around the room, curiously "so I talked to my brother" he announced, quietly.

"Dash?" Rachel asked, to make sure.

"Yes. I explained him the situation. And I guess I understand why you are so hesitant about booking me. So I requested him – and his connections – to stay out of the club. You have my word that if I perform here, there will be no gang related people in your club".

"Are you sure, Puck?" Rachel asked, wearily "you know it is a big risk for me to let you perform…"

"You have my word. And his word, for that matters. No gangsters. I promise you" Puck stated. Rachel stared at him, hesitantly. Puck continued "Dash is my big brother. He just wants me to be happy; he wants to see my face on buses and stuff. He wouldn't screw that up".

There was a silence. Rachel thoughtfully stared at Puck's tie, for some reason, biting her lower lip. Then a smile spread on her lips and she looked up at his face "okay".

He seemed startled "okay what?" he frowned suspiciously.

"I'll book you. Next Friday".

"No way. Are you for real?" he seemed utterly shocked, as if he had expected her never to give in.

Rachel's smile widened "you're a talented performer, Noah. I'd love to have you on our stage".

~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~~w

Finn was startled to find his sister inside his office, nonchalantly looking at the picture he had on his desk – of him, Quinn and Rachel on the first night of the club. He paused, before closing the door behind him "who are you hiding from?" he asked, as he entered the room.

Quinn turned and grinned to him, because he knew her so well "Kurt" she replied "he's been haunting me for a wedding date".

"Well, why don't you just tell him that you and Rachel haven't set one yet?" Finn asked, his body slightly tensing up as he stepped behind his desk and searched for something.

"Because that would lead to the _wedding plans _conversation, which would eventually lead to the _I can't believe you haven't made any plans yet _conversation, which, in its turn, would lead to the _I can plan your entire wedding _conversation that, finally, would lead to _why is Quinn slamming her head against the wall? _conversation".

"Got it" Finn replied, simply.

"And, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something" her tone denounced that it was something serious.

Finn looked up "what conversation will it be?".

"The _Rachel told me you had a gun _conversation".

Finn looked down, a sardonic smile creeping to his lips, nodding slightly "of course she did".

"Why do you have it?".

"I told her. For protection" he explained, simply.

"For what type of protection?" Quinn asked, frowning slightly.  
"I told her too that I wouldn't use it unless we were in a really life threatening situation. Look, I've had it for two years, I never had to use it. Just trust me".

"I do, Finn. I just wanted to make sure, because Rachel is kind of freaking out about it" Quinn shrugged.

"Well, tell her not to worry about that" he said, again.

"I already did".


	12. Chapter 11

Everyone was stoked about Pucky Puck performing in "Salt". By 10pm of the night he was going to finally step up to the stage of the club, people were gathering outside the building. The security was extra tight that day. That had been the only condition Quinn had put to Rachel. Rachel was happy to comply.

Inside, everyone was running around to get everything in check. Jesse was doing the sound-check for Pucky Puck – who was only going to show up around midnight -, Jacob was frenetically yelling at his helpers because of the chicken wings, Santana was manicuring her own nails, Kurt was staring at himself in the counter's mirror…

Quinn was standing close to the stage, helping Jesse. Brittany approached her nonchalantly.  
"Hey, has Rachel arrived already?".

"No, she was with…" for a moment, Quinn was about to confess Rachel was with Tommy, but she held her tongue before it slipped out "Finn's picking her up in about half an hour".

"Oh" Brittany commented, vaguely "you know, I think it's pretty cool of you to take that as lightly as you did. I mean, I know I would completely freak out, but you… I admire you. After all, he is your brother and you can't simply cut him off your life forever…"

Quinn turned her head to stare at her, confusedly "what the hell are you talking about?" she asked.

Brit looked at her, surprised that she hadn't picked up on the subject yet. Then she noticed Quinn's honest confused expression and she understood she had messed up by mentioning it. Quinn didn't know about it. They hadn't told her. Fuck.

"Forget it. I have to start…" Brittany said, but she didn't finish it, pretending that she had something to do.

Quinn briskly grasped her arm and made her turn around "wait, Brittany. You started it, now you have to finish" Quinn was frowning, and it was obvious that she understood that something really important had happened and, for some reason, nobody had told her.

Brittany was completely mortified. She didn't know what to do. It was so unlike her not knowing what to do. She usually didn't make the right decisions, but she always knew how to proceed. She wanted to run away and hide somewhere until Rachel arrived and she could bail her out. But Quinn was there, demanding an answer, and she knew she had to answer truthfully, because the way how Quinn was staring at her, it was as if she could read her mind and Brittany was terrified of the idea of being caught lying by her. Quinn was very intimidating.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. But you cannot tell Rachel I told you this. I wasn't supposed to know. The truth was that I caught Rachel running out of Finn's office, that night, and I was worried about her. She eventually told me, but made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone…" Brittany frowned "are you sure you don't know about it?".  
"No, Brittany, just spill it out!" Quinn demanded, tightening her grasp, getting despairingly impatient.

"Okay. Finn kind of… kissed Rachel. One night. Nothing happened, Rachel pushed him and she ran out of the room. He apologized. A lot. That's probably why Rachel didn't tell you anything about it. Because it was really no big deal. He was momentarily out of his mind. And did I mention he apologized a lot?" Brittany repeated, worriedly, as she saw Quinn's perplexed expression "Quinn?" she called, softly "are you okay?".

Quinn was just staring at her, blankly, still holding her arm, as if she couldn't understand what was being said. Then, she gently let the arm go "thanks for telling me, Brit" she mumbled, before turning away.

~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~w~~~~~~~~w

Okay, so Finn's office wasn't possibly the smartest choice for a place to calm herself down and get her act back together. Especially because of that picture, over his desk – and Quinn betted that whenever he was feeling lonely he would just look at it and delish himself with the sight of her – of the three of them. Even though Quinn was protectively hugging Rachel's shoulders on the photo, Finn was definitely leaning towards Rachel – she was in the middle of them – and his arm rested around her waist. It was outrageous.

Quinn was getting madder and madder at the second. She wasn't sure what she was going to do when she saw them, but she told herself she would control herself and wait until a better timing to discuss that event.

She couldn't control herself when she saw _them _walking inside the club, laughing at something, _together._ Before Quinn noticed it, she was running down the stairs to the main floor and walking toward them – Finn, specifically. He noticed her determinate expression and froze, slightly confused "is everything okay?" he managed to ask, before she reached him.

And before Quinn could think about it, her hand was slapping him across the face, the noise being amplified on the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at the scene, flabbergasted.

"Quinn!" Rachel cried, stepping forwards.

"Stay away from her!" Quinn yelled to Finn, who was just looking at her mortifyingly.

"What?..." he tried, looking confusedly at Rachel.  
"I fucking swear I'll kill you if you ever touch her again, do you understand me?" Quinn didn't wait for his answer, but he seemed to have finally realized what that was about "now get out! Leave!" she yelled, gesturing the door "don't you ever fucking step inside this club again. Do you hear me?".

Finn just stood there, looking at his sister who was practically foaming with rage.

Quinn turned around "Matt" she called. Because the man only stood there, without knowing what to do, she yelled louder "Matt!" he stepped forwards, still confused.

"Get him out" she said, in a controlled tone.

Matt hesitated, looking back at his former-boss. But Quinn's instruction was clear and her tone clearer about what she would do to Matt if he didn't obey her. So, slowly, and reluctantly, he approached Finn. First he politely gestured the door, but – as Finn didn't move – he, respectfully, started guiding him outside.

For the entire way to the door, Finn was looking back, watching his sister climb the stairs to his office. Rachel seemed too shocked to do anything about it, and she just stared at him and at Quinn, intermittently, with a gap between her lips.

Once Finn was outside, Rachel finally got her ability to react back and she started climbing the stairs, following her fiancé.

She pushed the door to Finn's office open, to find Quinn madly walking back and forth.

"Quinn" she tried, softly.  
"Don't you dare!" Quinn cried, immediately, turning toward Rachel. Now the brunette could see how her eyes were watering and she was completely flushed with the anger and the intensity of the situation.

"Quinn…" Rachel started, feeling like she would cry too.

"How could you lie to me? How could you?" Quinn demanded to know, gesturing madly.  
"I didn't lie to you!" Rachel yelled, matching her tone.

"Don't give me that crap, Rachel! You know exactly what I'm talking about. How could you hide something like that from me?".

"Can't you see? I was trying to avoid what just happened" Rachel gestured the door behind her "I didn't want you to freak out!".

"Of course I'm freaking out! He is my fucking brother! How could he?".

"He didn't think. If you could see how regretful he was after it happened… Quinn, please, just talk…"

"Stop it, Rachel. Do you think I'm really going to fall for the oopsie excuse? Fuck, Rachel!" Quinn yelled back.

Rachel stepped forwards, reaching for Quinn, but the blonde stepped back, avoiding the touch. Rachel cornered Quinn against Finn's old desk, pressing their bodies together. Quinn turned her face, not wanting to face Rachel, but the brunette gently cupped her face, making her look at her.

"Are you crying, Quinn?" she mumbled, softly.

Quinn didn't answer; she sniffled instead.

"I don't want you to cry…" Rachel mumbled, as she leaned in to kiss Quinn's tears "I'm sorry, babe. I'm so sorry. I just didn't want any problems between you two. That was why I didn't tell you".

"Was this the first time something like that happened?" Quinn demanded to know, finally facing Rachel's eyes, hazel eyes mirroring her insecurities.

"Yes" Rachel didn't need to think about that answer.

Quinn stared at her suspiciously "Rachel, this is really not the time to protect him… I need you to be honest…"

"Quinn, I swear nothing ever happened before. I wouldn't lie to you" Rachel brushed Quinn's hair out of her face, gently.

"I can't forgive him" Quinn mumbled, under her breath, as her eyes dropped to the floor and a fat tear slid down her cheek.

"Can you try?" Rachel asked, hesitantly. It was a lot to ask, she knew it.

Quinn looked up "I don't want to".


	13. Chapter 12

The club had just opened, and it was already buzzing with people. Rachel made her way to the bar counter, elbowing a guy so that she could lean over it and call Kurt, who had volunteered to help at the bar seeing that they were predicting it to be hectic that night.

"Any luck?" she asked, hopefully.

"He doesn't pick up. I'll keep trying, though" he answered, curling his mouth corners.

"If he does pick up just tell him to give her some time. I'll talk to her. When she's calmer he can talk to her".

"Okay…" Kurt seemed hesitant to continue, but decided on doing so anyway "do you think Quinn is not going to let him back?".

Rachel bit her lower lip "I don't know".

"She fired him, didn't she? I mean, she told him not to come inside this club ever again. We're going to need a new manager" Kurt noted, worriedly.

"That's crazy. He's always been the manager, since this place opened. I don't think I could do this without him… I mean, he was my rock when Quinn was away. And he's Finn".

"Well, you'll have to start accepting the fact that things are going to change around here" Kurt told her, shrugging slightly.

Rachel was suddenly distracted by the sight of a suited man approaching the counter. He was deliberately walking slowly, inspecting the room with a tiny grin. Mike Chang was obviously happy, and Rachel's blood boiled with the realization of what was making him that satisfied.  
"What is _he_ doing here?" she hissed, highly unpleased.

Kurt didn't have to answer, because Mike was already approaching the tiny brunette with a smug look on his face "Ms Berry".

"Mr Chang" Rachel greeted back, with a cold nod "what do we owe the pleasure?".

"Are you kidding me? Pucky Puck at _Salt._ I had to see this".

"Are you a fan?" Rachel asked, still coldly.

He grinned at her "sure" he answered, in a condescending tone "I heard some interesting news when I came in" he announced.

"Oh, really?" Rachel commented, knowing exactly what had been.

"Yes. Drama is going down in the club. I always said that owing a night club wasn't a job for two women. I trust that you know realize that" Mike Chang answered, naturally "and I also trust that you know that loosing the manager you _always_ had is also very bad for the business. And trust-worthy people on this business are hard to find".

"I appreciate your worries, but they're unneeded" Rachel replied, surely "everything's fine. And what is happening with this club isn't any of your business, so I don't feel the need to justify anything to you. So, if you just came in here to take advantage of the situation, you can just leave, because it's not going to happen".

Mike Chang stared hardly at her, with what Rachel supposed to be his poker face. Then he nonchalantly looked around, with a mysterious grin in his lips "I think I'll stay around if that's okay with you".

Rachel nodded, before leaving.

~~~~~~w~~~~~~w~~~~~~~w

There was a professional knock on Finn's – old - office door, half an hour later. Quinn, who was inside, thought it would be Santana or Jesse to announce that Puck had arrived, but instead, Matt pushed the door open, only peeking inside "there's man trying to get in through the back door" he said.

Quinn looked up, surprised "you know what to do" she replied, simply, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

"He states he's Ms Berry's brother" Matt informed her.

"Oh. Bring him here" Quinn told him.

~~~~~~w~~~~~~w~~~~~~~w

"I knew it. I knew it I couldn't trust him" Rachel protested to herself, as she looked down at her watch "he's already half an hour late. Is he going to show up at all?".

"Jeez, calm down" Santana cried, because Rachel was so overreacting. The performers always arrived late and Rachel knew it. She was just over analyzing his tardiness because she was nervous. But everything was going just fine that night. There hadn't been any confusion outside the club with any gangsters and much less inside. Puck had held his part of the deal until now "he has been wanting to perform here for two years. He wouldn't not show up now" Santana assured her as she eyed a tall man that stepped inside the club "hello" she said, in a provocative tone. The man looked down at her "I'm Santana, the club hostess" she promptly introduced, while playing with a lock of her own hair "should we get ourselves something to drink?" she asked, one arched brow.

Rachel rolled her eyes as Santana and the man left toward the bar. That was so not in her job description.

And then another man stepped inside the club, elbowing his way, followed shortly by an Asian woman "Agent Abrams!" Rachel cried, utterly surprised to see him there. She hadn't seen of him since he had suggested to Quinn that Rachel was having an affair with Finn. Something that Rachel didn't take personally "Agent Cohen-Chang. What are you doing here?".

"We're following Mike Chang" Agent Abrams announced, when he got close.

"What?".

"We have reasons to believe he's involved with the murderer. We just found out that he was here in the night of the murder and lied about it. His JPS tracks him to this place that night".

"You think he killed Karofsky?" Rachel asked, frowning.

"No, he didn't kill him. We do believe however he's involved with the mob. We think he wanted to be around to see it".

"He's in here tonight" Rachel noted, thoughtfully "do you think something is going to happen?".

"That's not for us to guess" Abrams stated, already looking around for Mike Chang.

~~~~~~w~~~~~~w~~~~~~~w

"You want to walk Rachel down the aisle?" Quinn asked, her eyebrows shooting to her hair line.

"I would like that very much" Tommy stated, quietly, his hands on his lap, as he sat across the desk.

"But… you can't show up publicly" Quinn noticed, confusedly.

"I am aware of that" he says, furrowing his forehead slightly "but I'm willing to take the risk. We could say I am Rachel's… old friend. I know, it's not really a good plan, but this is something I really want to do" he scratched is forehead, thoughtfully.

"Well, Tommy…" Quinn started, hesitantly "I'm sure Rachel would love you to walk her down the aisle. I mean, I know she wouldn't want it any other way, but I don't think she will go along with that. She won't want you to compromise your safety or… liberty" she finished.

Tommy bit the inside of his cheeks "she's my little sister. If anything is worth any compromising of both of those things, it's her".

Quinn couldn't agree more, but still she was really unsure about everything. It seemed too risky.

There was a thoughtful silence between them, and both their minds drifted different ways.

Then, finally, Tommy sighed and mumbled "I always said no guy would ever be good enough for her".

Quinn chuckled.

Then there was a knock at the door. If Quinn analyzed it, she would realize it wasn't as much as a knock, but a shoving of something against the office's door. She would have noticed it, if it wasn't for the fact that she was too concentrated on getting Tommy hidden for the eventually that whomever was outside the office shouldn't see him.

Tommy promptly hid inside the closet, as if it was something he was used to do. And maybe it was.

"Come in" Quinn finally said.

Then the door was pushed opened and Matt reappeared…

being shoved to the floor of the room, obviously unconscious.

Three man Quinn had never seen her life – but still she knew that they _should _be feared – were at the door. They were all dressed in dark suits and, and the protuberance of their guns on their belts was quite visible bellow their clothes.

The first Quinn thought about doing was to check if Matt was alive. She didn't even think about the fact that reaching for his body would make her more exposed for the three men at the door; she just needed to know if he was still alive. She fell on her knees and involved his face with her hands, calling his name. There was no response. In despair, she dipped her head to his chest and checked for a heartbeat. She was able to find it, luckily.

It wasn't until Tommy burst out of the closet, yelling Quinn to run, that she was reminded that she was actually in danger herself, and looked up.

They didn't seem in a hurry to get her, though, knowing that they were blocking the only exit of the room. They seemed more interested on Tommy.

One of them – the oldest, with a crooked smile and a scar that divided one of his brows – grinned at Tommy, utterly satisfied "just the man we wanted to see" he commented, as he took his gun out of his belt and pointed directly at Tommy.

"Carmine" Tommy hissed, with such coldness he seemed like he was completely disgusted by the name, freezing on his way to the man, facing the gun "let her go".

Carmine's blue eyes – of a cold and piercing tone – dropped on Quinn – and the blonde couldn't help the unpleasant chills she got with that simple gesture-,still on the floor, crawling backwards as far away from him as she possibly could get, and his smile widened, as he stepped forward, toward the woman.

"What do we have here?" he started, leaning his head slightly to the side while staring at Quinn. His glacial eyes explored Quinn's body, in a perverted way "should I guess? Blonde hair, dazzling modelesque looks… I would say that we have Quinn Fabray in our presence. Your sister's girlfriend. Or… should I say fiancé?" he eyed Tommy teasingly blonde "what, you think after Karofsky miserably failed on his mission, I wouldn't keep an eye on your sister? I've been watching her every move since then. I could have killed her numerous times, if I wanted to" Carmine gave the last step forward closing the gap between himself and Quinn, and grabbed her hair, pulling her head up, making her look at him. Even though he apparently was talking to Tommy, Quinn could feel her bones chilling with the feeling that he was also talking to her "but what would it be the fun of that, killing her without you watching? Without you trying to save her and shamefully failing?" Carmine let out an evil laugher, letting Quinn's hair go, abruptly, facing Tommy "no, but tonight it's going to be _the_ night" he turned around to the other two men "tie them up" he ordered, simply.

When Pucky Puck finally appeared it was over 1am. The crowd was getting impatient, but as soon as he showed up, the environment eased up. He truly was a celebrity around there. When he stepped on stage, the screams were so loud that Rachel had to cover her ears in order to not get them burst out.

The room was so packed, Rachel found herself being pushed to the side of a group of screaming girls practically tearing their hair off. Pucky Puck seemed pleased with that and he winked at them, making the hair tearing and screaming worst.

Rachel felt a squeeze on her shoulder and when she turned around she found Kurt there "Finn's here" he yelled over the crowd. Rachel had to read his lips, because she couldn't hear a sound that he made.

"Where?" she yelled, as loud as she could.

Kurt pointed in direction to the front door.

"Quinn's in her office!" Rachel yelled back "I don't think he should talk to her just now. He should let her calm down first".

"Yeah" Kurt nodded, in agreement "I told him so, but he insists on talking to Quinn, now" he informs her, frowning "do you want me to get Matt?".

"No" Rachel answered, immediately, shaking her hand "it's okay" she thought for a moment "I'll take care of it".

Rachel elbowed her way through the crowd. Being little had its advantages. She could either be crushed between the big people, or she could sneak through them easily.

"Finn!" she yelled, when she spotted his familiar figure on the crowd. He wasn't as lucky as she was and his height made it difficult for him to move around the completely packed room.

Finn recognised her voice and turned around, seeming slightly relieved that Rachel had found him "Rachel, where's Quinn?".

"Finn, I can't let you go talk to her right now. It would hurt your chances more than it would improve them. Give her time. Please".

"I'm sorry, Rach, I know you're probably right, but I just can't wait. I have to talk to her" Finn said, shaking his head apologetically.

"Are you sure? You know your sister. She's going to be pretty mad and unreasonable" Rachel told him, seriously.

"Well, she will be pretty mad but not in an unreasonable way. She's completely right. I deserve everything and more. I betrayed her; I betrayed her trust, and I don't blame her if she never trusts me again. I just want to make things better. I don't need to come back to the club, I just want my sister back…"

Rachel stared at him, still hesitant about letting him talk to Quinn. But he seemed sure of himself, and Rachel thought that this was something between brother and sister and – even though she was kind of the cause of this whole argument – this was something the both of them had to resolve, by themselves. Rachel just had to stand back and hope everything turned out for the best. She loved Quinn to death and she _loved_ Finn. She didn't want to lose either of them.

"Okay. She's in your office" Rachel told him, and she promptly followed him toward the stairs.


	14. Chapter 13

**I want to start off by sincerely apologizing for the huge hiatus. It wasn't intended. I already had the entire story written, but my computer died and I thought I had lost its file. Fortunately, I recently found out that I had it backed up in my gmail account. Thank God. So here it is. I'm going to post the rest of the story and, once again, I apologize.**

"Quinn, we really need to talk and I don't care if you…ohhh".

Carmine was startled when someone pushed the office's door open without knocking, but not enough startled not to be able to point his gun directly at him. It was not necessary, because the person stormed inside the room so decidedly, that he didn't even understand that something was wrong, before he tripped on Matt's unconscious body, and fell straight on the floor, confusedly.

Equally confused, was a tiny brunette, standing at the door, staring at all of the three strangers inside the room, before noticing Quinn and Tommy tied, sitting on the corner of the room. Rachel was motionless, without knowing what to do. Carmine pulled himself back together before her, and lifted his gun "come in. Slowly".

XXX

"This is going so well. We don't even have to find anyone, they're just coming to us" Carmine commented, as he gestured the other man – the youngest and less scary of the three – to tie Rachel up, his gun now pointed toward Finn, who was being rudely lifted by one of the men.

Rachel was pushed to the floor, falling hardly by Tommy's side, gasping. The shock was still overwhelming her, and she hadn't still quite processed what was happening. Her eyes finally recognised the body Finn had tripped over "oh my God, Matt!" she cried, only then realizing that Carmine was actually approaching her.

"So this is your lovely sister, uh?" Carmine mused, as he bent down to cup her face. Rachel cringed at his touch and struggled to break free from it, but she wasn't able to do so. Carmine caressed – not very affectionately – her face with a crooked smile "I see your family has good genes".  
"Don't fucking touch her!" Quinn cried, from where she was, her face flushed with anger and disgust. Carmine turned his head slowly to look at her, one arched eyebrow.

"Bitch, who made you think that you can tell me what to do?" he asked sardonically. Rachel cried, trying to shift away from him, but he tightened his grasp.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Tommy yelled, practically spitting the words, just hoping that Carmine would step away from his sister "why are you doing this?".  
"Don't fucking play dumb, Berry" Carmine warned, finally letting Rachel go – who immediately crawled back to the corner where Quinn was tied "you know exactly how things work".

"Why are you doing all this, then, if you just want me? I'm here. You can take me. Just let everyone else go" Tommy replied, madly.

"Fuck, Berry, don't you get it?" Carmine yelled "this isn't anymore just about you working for me again. This is about the damage you caused. You know how much money I lost by you running away? Because, apart from you being a totally waste of life, you were good business. And Karofsky, he was one of the few men I could really trust in our alliance. You fucked everything up. And I'm not stopping until I get back the money you made me lose plus a high fee of compensation for the inconvenient".

"If you want money, you don't have to do all this. I'll give you money, you just have to leave them alone" Tommy mumbled, wearily, looking down.

"Fine, where's the money?" Carmine asked, playing with his gun, nonchalantly, as if he hadn't been yelling just about five seconds ago.

Tommy sighed "I have 38 thousand dollars on my account" Tommy stated, quietly "then I have other 2 thousand hidden" even in the middle of the entire situation, Quinn lifted her eyebrows, surprised by the amount of money that mobsters made.

Carmine let out an ironic laughter "40 thousand dollars? Really? Do you really think I would go to all this trouble for 40 thousand dollars?" he asked, in a passive-aggressive way. Then the amusement disappeared from his expression, as anger covered it, and briskly closed his fist to punch Tommy

"Tommy!" Rachel cried, trying to crawl to him, but Carmine pointed the gun right at her.  
"Stay there, bitch!" he yelled, madly. Rachel froze, tears quietly falling from her face, trembling "you have to do better than 40 thousand dollars, Berry!" he turned towards Tommy again, resuming their _conversation._

Tommy sighed, straightening himself up. His right eye was now of a tone of purple and there was a small cut by its side. The pain made it hard for him to concentrate – plus he could hardly see from his right eye at the moment – but he needed to make it happened; he was the one responsible for all of that and he had to be the one resolving it "I can get… 50 thousand dollars. Handed it to you as soon as you let them out of here and drive me to a bank".

"You offend me thinking that I will sell myself that cheap!" Carmine mused back, walking nonchalantly around the room, stepping over Matt's body. He gestured one of the other men to drag the security's body to somewhere more convenient.

"I don't have any more money…" Tommy mumbled, against his chest.

"Fuck, that! You'll have to find a way of getting more money!" Carmine yelled. There was a moment of silence. Carmine sighed, covering his eyes with his palm, in a thoughtful way. Then he turned toward the younger men "Kosta, take the sister" he hissed, with a slight head nod.

The man – Kosta Borev – nodded in response, approaching Rachel promptly. He lifted her easily and started dragging her toward the door. Rachel fought as much as she could – having her hands tied – but Kosta was strong and didn't seem to find it difficult to transport her, even if she kicked him and tried to bite him.

"What are you going to do to her?" Tommy yelled.

"Don't touch her!" Quinn yelled, again, as she jumped to her feet. Carmine was briskly in front of her, before she could reach Kosta, and he slapped her hard across the face, making her step backward, hitting the wall.

Rachel gasped, horrified.

With a jump, Tommy was on his feet and, bending over, he threw himself toward Carmine, his shoulders hitting his stomach, and knocking him to the floor. The other man – Blake – promptly grabbed Tommy and shoved him back against the wall, his gun's barrel pressed against his forehead "are you done?" he asked.

"_Stop, stop, stop, please stop_!" Rachel cried, sobbing and whimpering, shaking her head vehemently as Kosta firmly grabbed her by her waist "don't hurt them, please, don't hurt them".

The guy with the gun pointed toward Tommy fidgeted, seeming slightly uncomfortable, waiting for his boss, Carmine, to tell him what to do. His index finger was ready on the trigger, if he got the order to execute Tommy.

Carmine slowly sat up, smoothing his clothes. He seemed strangely calm, which, somehow, made everyone more nervous. He prompted himself up.

"Don't kill him. Yet. He won't be lucrative if he's dead" he said, coldly. Then he turned around to face Kosta, who was frozen by the door, still holding Rachel "take her. Now!".


	15. Chapter 14

Kosta pushed her inside the old storage room, closing the door behind them. The noise of the on going concert downstairs was muffled. It was weird to think that there were all those people inside the club, having fun, without a clue of what was happening upstairs.

Rachel turned around, her heart beating off her chest, her hands still tied together behind her back, feeling as exposed and vulnerable as she had ever been. She had no idea what he was going to do to her.

She was expecting being knocked to the floor, or something, but instead of that, Kosta green eyes stared at her. He was slightly flushed.

"You can sit" he told her.

Rachel was even more taken aback by his gentle approached than if he had punched her in the face.

Slowly, she leaned against the wall, sliding down, until she dropped to the floor. She was not really scared for herself, anymore. Now, she was excruciatingly fearing for the people on the next room. Quinn…

She dropped her head on her bent knees, the panic overcoming her, the tears soaking her jeans, the sobs cutting her breathing in an almost painful way.

Then she heard the noise of something being thrown against the wall and she looked up, immediately. Kosta had smashed a lamp against the wall. She stared at him, confusedly, as he kicked a table, tossed a chair against the wall… he seemed crazy.

"What are you doing?" she managed to ask, between sobs.

He stopped to look at her "I'm beating you up" he explained.

"Oh… isn't he going to be mad if he knows that you're not actually doing that?" Rachel asked, wiping her tears on her shoulder, because at that moment, she couldn't think about what she should say or not, so she just said whatever came to her mind.

"He won't care if it does the deed – which is scaring your brother " Kosta replied. He then bit his lower lip "Look, I don't want to hurt you, okay? I know it's hard for you to sympathise with me, but I'm here in the same conditions as your brother was. If I'm not, he'll go after my family. So make no mistake, I'm on his side. That doesn't mean I like it" Kosta stared at the door, nervously "now if your brother hurries up and gives Carmine the money he wants, everything is going to be fine".

"He doesn't have the money. What's going to happen then?" Rachel asked.

Kosta brushed his hand against his fair hair, and Rachel could clearly see that that was his way of saying "you're not going to like the answer to that". Then he turned around, and resumed hitting, smacking, throwing, breaking stuff.

"Okay, okay!" Tommy cried, tears forming on his face as he heard the noise coming from the next room. Quinn was curled up, sobbing uncontrollably "I can get you… 80 thousand. But you have to give me time. I can get that money for you, clean".

Carmine smiled at him, brushing his gun affectionately "try again".

There was another loud noise of something breaking in the room next to theirs and Tommy hurried to suggest something else "I can get you 80 thousand and work for you for as long as I live. You know I can make you much more money that way. I'll do anything".

Carmine pondered that offer. It was getting closer and closer to satisfy him, but it wasn't still quite there.

"You'll work for me, all right" he nodded "you have no other choice. I still want compensation from the money you made me lose. And 80 thousand dollars is not fucking enough…"

Tommy leaned his head down, quietly crying "please, just go get my sister. I beg of you. When she's here we can negotiate a better deal for you…"

"You don't get to make the rules!" Carmine laughed "I do. And your sister is not getting out of that room until I'm completely satisfied. I'm not, yet. So you better hurry up, if you want to get her out of there… alive".

Quinn sobbed loudly when hearing that. Finn bit his lower lip, eyeing the floor, his shoulder brushing against Quinn's.

"100 thousand dollars" Tommy finally offered, looking up suddenly.

Carmine froze. He was, obviously, very tempted. He relaxed, trying not to seem too eager "and how do you expect getting all that money?" he asked, casually.

"I'll sell my house, I'll sell my car, I'll sell my clothes, I'll sell everything I own. I still have my parents' inheritance. I can get you 100 thousand dollars" he finalized, surely.

"Why is it that you're just bringing up this parents' inheritance now?" Carmine asked, suspiciously, standing up.  
"It has some sort of clause. I would only have access to the money before I get married in case of a big emergency and this certainly classifies as one" Tommy resumed, shaking his head dismissively.

"I don't trust you" Carmine says, bluntly.

"Please" Tommy cried "I can get you the money. Do you think I'm crazy enough to lie to you?".

"You were crazy enough to try to run away from me" Carmine remembered.

Tommy dropped his head, mumbling "that was a misunderstanding. I thought my due was paid and…"  
"You're due would be paid when I told you it was. I didn't".

"Look. I would do anything for my sister. Please, understand that" Tommy begged, hopelessly "I wouldn't risk her like that. Again…" he added.

Carmine walked over to the desk and rested against it, looking at his gun thoughtfully. He was pondering the offer.

Tommy waited impatiently.

"Fine. I think that will work. Of course you'll work for me for the rest of your life, because the 100 thousand dollars aren't enough" Carmine finally stated.

"Deal" Tommy quickly answered, relieved.

Carmine turned towards his partner "go and get the girl" he told him, quietly.

XXX

When Rachel was dragged back to Finn's office, her heart was beating insanely. She had no idea what had happened in there while she was gone. She knew that the three people she loved the most where inside of it and, even though she felt much more protected in her office with Kosta, she wanted to go back, because the thought of what they could be doing to any of them – to Quinn, to Tommy, to Finn – was just killing her.

Kosta had recommended her to do whatever Carmine told her to do, before they got back inside the office. He also explained that – if everything went according to Carmine's liking, he wouldn't kill her; he would want her to be alive for the eventuality of Tommy running away from him again.

As soon as Rachel stepped inside the office, Kosta was less gentle toward her, throwing her to the floor, on the middle of the room.

She heard Quinn gasp "Rachel!".

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked, worriedly.

Rachel looked up, relieved to see that no one was more injured then when she had left them.

They all seemed pretty surprised that she wasn't injured at all, including Carmine "idiot" he hissed towards Kosta "you're a little bitch, aren't you?".

"You got what you wanted, didn't you?" Kosta threw back, fearlessly.

Carmine looked at him disgustedly, before turning back around and pointed his gun toward Rachel "our deal's still the same, Berry. Just because this wuss wasn't able to do his job, doesn't mean that I can't. You know that I can".

Tommy knew, from his own personal experience, and he didn't want him to prove so again "the deal is still the same" he repeated, with a nod.

"Good" Carmine commented, looking around the office "now, where's the safe?" he asked, directly to Finn.

Finn looked down, quietly. Carmine pointed his gun toward him, threateningly. He stayed silent.

Quinn stepped in "it's behind the book shelf" Finn threw her a glare and she threw him another back.

Carmine gestured to Blake to check if that was truth, and he was satisfied to find that it was "code?" he asked.

"8679397" Quinn answered, in a mumble. Again, it was truth.

"Good girl" he said, as he ran his right hand through the piled up bills.

Quinn bit her tongue with such force that it had genuinely hurt, in an attempt not to say anything. She had a _few_ things she would like to say.

XXX

"Hi" a woman's voice sounded, breaking Agent Abrams focus on Mike Chang. Arthur Abrams was leaning with his back against the counter and the woman who approached him was leaning over the counter.

He turned his head to be faced with the beautiful intimidating club's hostess, Santana Lopez "hello" he answered back.

"Work or pleasure?" she questioned him, amusedly.

"Work" he replied, seriously.

"That's all you guys do, uh?" Santana said, conversationally "any news?".

Artie eyed her, letting her know that he had no intentions of sharing that with her.

"Right" she mumbled "you do know that, if I hadn't shown you the napkin with the floor plan, you would still be thinking that this murder had been something…" Santana continued, but Agent Abrams interrupted, turning toward her, suddenly.  
"Wait, you were the _anonymous _person who drew the floor plan?" he asked, his eyebrows arched.

"Yeah" Santana replied, proudly.

"I should have known. Do you make a habit of drawing, basically, a treasure map to creepy guys?" he asked, sardonically.

Santana stared at him, madly "he told me he was a club owner and was looking for a interior designer and I!..." she shook her head "forget it, why am I even discussing this with you?".

She motioned to leave, but Agent Abrams grasped her arm, stopping her "wait. Could you at least tell me why it wasn't finished?".

"What are you talking about?" Santana cried, confusedly.  
"The floor plan. It wasn't complete. You were being pretty detailed, but you didn't finish it" the Agent explained.

"Oh" Santana said, simply "I was interrupted".

"By what?".

"Finn appeared and demanded I got back to my station" she rolled her eyes.

Agent Abrams seemed to have been struck by a realization lighting "Finn Hudson saw the floor plan and Karofsky?".

"Yeah" she answered, casually "now can I go?".

Agent Abrams let her go; she just had, very unintentionally, helped him solve that case.


	16. Chapter 15

Everyone froze to look at the office's door; someone had knocked at the door. Carmine lifted his gun and pointed around the room, pressing his index finger against his lip, gesturing silence. Nobody dared to not obey him.

"Come in" he said, in a low mumble.

When the door opened and Agent Abrams stepped inside, he was immediately knocked out by Blake's fist. Agent Cohen-Chang was too surprise to react immediately, so when she did reached for her gun, Kosta was already pointing his at her "put the gun down" he demanded "slowly".

Blake held Agent Abrams tightly to the ground and Agent Cohen-Chang had to obey. They were tied against each other, because there wasn't enough rope to tie them separately. Apparently, Carmine hadn't anticipated such a big turn out.

While Carmine, Kosta and Blake were frisking both Agents for their guns and other hidden weapons, Finn leaned toward Quinn, who was sitting on his side.

"Can you help me out of the ropes?" he asked, in a whisper.

Quinn didn't answer him.

"I know you don't like me very much right now, but now it's not the time to for it. I need you to help me out of the ropes".

Quinn fidgeted, uncomfortably "what are you going to do?" she whispered back, worryingly.

"My gun is on the drawer. If I reach for it…"

"It's too dangerous".

"It's our only chance. I need you to help me".

Quinn didn't move for a moment. Then, slowly and trying not to catch anyone's attention, started turning her body around, so that had her back turned against to Finn's, and she could try to untie his wrists. She couldn't, they were too tight.

"I can't do it" Quinn whispered.  
"Try, Quinn. Please" he asked, desperately.

Quinn continued to try, using her manicured nails to her advantage. Still, she wasn't getting much done. But she wasn't going to give up.

XXX

When the door was once again pushed open, it was hard to grasp what happened, because everything happened simultaneously.

"What the hell?..." it was Puck at the entrance, freezing as realization of what was happening sunk in.

Tommy took advantage of the distraction the rapper created and jumped to his feet, knocking Blake to the floor with his body. Finn followed his lead and, finally freeing himself from the ropes, ran toward his desk.

Carmine was too startled to be able to do anything. He didn't know if he should point his gun to Puck – who was still perplexed at the door -, to Tommy or to Finn.

And then a gun shot sounded. For a shilling moment, no one quite knew what had happened.

And then, slowly, Rachel looked up – panic overwhelming her – to see who had been shot. And she saw Finn holding a gun to where Carmine had been standing before. The mobster was now on the floor, a puddle of blood forming bellow him.

The agents had freed themselves from the ropes as well, and Agent Abrams quickly pushed Kosta against the wall – which wasn't difficult, because the man was motionless looking at his leader on the floor – and unarmed him. Agent Cohen-Chang kneeled by Carmine's side, restraining a grimace. The shot had been directly to the heart, but still, as protocol, she checked for a heartbeat. There wasn't.

"Quinn…" Rachel cried, trying to set herself free from the ropes, but failing. Agent Cohen-Chang was sympathetic to her struggle and helped her out. As soon as Rachel was free she desperately helped Quinn out of her own.

They hugged, tightly.

"Are you okay, Rach?" Quinn mumbled, on her ear "are you hurt?" she asked, worriedly.

Rachel pulled apart from the hug to look at Quinn's face. There was a small cut on her right cheek from the slap Carmine had given her "oh, babe…" she mumbled, tears prickling her eyes as she brushed gently her thumb over the cut "I'm so sorry…" she sobbed.

Quinn gave her a brave smile "right in the money-maker, uh?" she joked. But, they were so emerse in each other, they hadn't realized that _that_ was not over.

"Finn…" the girls turned around to see Agent Abrams walking carefully to the tall dark haired man, who was still gripping his gun hard, staring at the body on the floor. There was something wrong "can you put the gun down, please? Slowly" he requested.

Finn wasn't looking at him and he didn't seem to be hearing him. Agent Abrams repeated his request.

Then, slowly, Finn looked up. He started bending down, to place his gun on the floor, but then the Agent committed the mistake to say "Finn Hudson, you're under arrest for suspicions of killing Dave Karofsky and…". Arthur Abrams stopped talking, as he saw Finn straightening himself up, suddenly, still gripping his gun. He had to reach for his.

"What?" Quinn stared confusedly at the Agent and at Finn, intermittently.

XXX

"So you know, uh?" he asked the agent, the gun firmly between his hands.

"Drop the gun, Finn" the Agent demanded, seriously, slightly fidgeting, holding his own gun surely.

"That's not how's going to go and you know it" Finn mumbled, darkly "now tell me how you found out".

"Everything fell into place when I found out that you had seen Karofsky the night of the murder. You probably saw him talking to Ms Lopez and got suspicious. When you saw she was drawing the floor plan you must have understood that the guy meant no good. You kept an eye on him through the night and then, finally, you saw him sneaking inside the Lost and Found room. So you followed him and engaged on a fight with Karofsky. That's how those type of fibres from your jacket ended up on the floor, I would say. You manage to knock him unconscious and then dragged him to the bathroom. I'm only speculating, but I figure an unconscious man on a night club isn't something that suspicious for people. You executed him on the bathroom stall, using Ms Berry's jacket to mumble the shot".

Finn stayed silent for a moment, which was basically all that Agent Abrams needed to know that every one of his assumptions were correct. Then the bigger man gripped his gun harder "you don't understand. He was here to kill her. I could tell. Everything about him screamed mob and he was here with the single intent of murdering her. I had to do something about it".

"Finn" Rachel sobbed, trying to step forward, but Quinn immediately grasping her hand.

"I understand that. Now, put your gun down!" Agent Abrams repeated, now a little louder.  
"You think I don't know how this works? It was going to be hard enough to prove that it was in defence of another person, that Karofsky was there to murder Rachel, because there are legally no signs that he was connected with the mob. They made sure, so. Now that I lied about it, my chances of not going to jail are basically inexistent. And I can't have that".

"And resisting police arrest isn't really going to make your chances any better, so put the fucking gun down!" the agent now yelled.

"Oh, I'm not resisting. There's no way I'm going to jail, period. You know how this is going to go down. So, the question is, are you fast enough?".

"This will be your last chance of surrendering" the Agent warned, pressing his lips together.

"Okay" Finn simply replied. They were both gripping their guns hard.

And then Rachel jumped in the middle of them, breaking free from Quinn's grasp "wait!" she cried, holding her palms open to Finn, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Rachel, please, get out of the way" Finn asked, looking pleadingly toward his sister, who was frozenly shocked.

"Finn" she pleaded, her big brown eyes mirroring her vulnerability "please".

He looked at her taken aback, not knowing what to do.

"Rachel" he tried, his voice faint.

"You saved me. You saved my life. Let me help you now" she asked, her voice failing "please…".

Finn continued to stare at her. Rachel, slowly, stepped forward. Carefully, she lifted her hand and rested on Finn's arm. Defeated, Finn let his arm fall.

"You have the right to remain in silence. Everything you…" Agent Abrams started reading his rights, as he reached for his handcuffs.

Finn just stayed there, looking at Rachel sadly, as the agent handcuffed him.

"Thank you" Quinn mumbled, sniffling.


	17. Epilogue

**8 months later**

Quinn carefully closed the apartment door behind her, emerging herself in darkness. She didn't have to turn the lights on; she knew the way by heart.

Rachel was in their bed, sleeping peacefully, curled bellow the sheets. Quinn smiled to herself. Then, slowly, she kneeled on the bed. Feeling the bed shifting, Rachel rolled, still half asleep. Quinn crawled on top of her, kissing her kneck.

A lazy smile crept in to Rachel's lips, her eyes still closed "you shouldn't be here" she whispered.

Quinn smiled against her neck "why not?".

Rachel sighed and finally opened her eyes, looking slightly amused, slightly reprehensively "we agreed…"

"I missed you".

"It was only for a night. A few hours" Rachel whispered back. It was hard to get mad at Quinn for being so adorably impatient. Or for loving her so much.

"Why?" Quinn demanded to know, prompting herself in her elbows, to look at Rachel's face.

"It's tradition. We spent one night apart before, officially, coming together…"

"Oh, whatever" Quinn snorted, kissing Rachel's nose.

"Don't you think it would be more exciting, though? Not having seen each other for a day until we walked down the aisle…"

"What are you wearing?" Quinn interrupted, with a naughty grin. Rachel leaned her head to the side to signal reprehension. Quinn decided to check it for herself, tugging the sheets "your purple cows' pyjama?" Quinn chuckled.

"I wanted to be comfortable" Rachel explained, sheepishly "have a good night of sleep so that I would be properly rested for our big day tomorrow".

Quinn laughed, kissing her. Her fingers made light work on the buttons and, quickly, Rachel's pyjama shirt was undone. Quinn arched a questioning eyebrow when she found, bellow the piece of clothing, black lacy underwear.

"Do you always wear your sexiest underwear when you want to have a comfortable night of sleep?" she insinuated.

"I know you too well" Rachel explained, simply, grinning.

XXX

"Wow" Santana commented, eyeing the expectant people in front of her, sitting on the stools placed on the fresh grass of Halo's Country Club, dressed in her light blue bride's maid dress "everything's… wow".

"Thank you" Kurt immediately jumped on the opportunity of taking credit for is work. After all, he had been the one and only wedding planner and he had busted his ass of for seven entire months to give the couple the wedding of their dreams. Various suggestions he had made had been refused being accused of being too… gay for the girls. But, at that moment, Kurt was happy with the "simple" wedding he had planned as a request by Quinn and Rachel.

"What's taking so long?" Brittany questioning, ignorant to the fact that Quinn, by her side, was shifting her weight nervously at her question.

"Rachel's not going to walk down the aisle before Tommy arrives" Kurt explained.

"Will he make it on time?" Brittany whispered back. The conversation, supposedly between Kurt and Brittany only, was being overheard by Quinn and she was getting very unnerved because of it.  
"He better" Quinn whispered "that was the deal with the police. He gave them valuable information about the mob and he sentence was reduced plus he got to come to the wedding. With proper escort, of course".

"Well, if he doesn't make it on time, Finn can always walk her down the aisle" Kurt suggested, simply, nodding is head towards the tall dark haired guy, hands behind his back, looking absent minded.

"Rachel really wants Tommy to do it" Quinn mumbled back, between her teeth "and Tommy will be here, so just shut up, okay?".

"Should I go check on Rachel, though?" Santana volunteered "make sure she hasn't run away yet?".

"Not funny" Quinn hissed.

"Wait" Santana turned around, obviously amused "are you nervous, Quinn? Do you think that Rachel can leave you at the altar?".

Quinn was about to say something very unpleasant at Santana, when, far away, they spotted a police car pulling over.

Quinn felt a wave of relief. Tommy was there.

"Tommy is hot, though" Kurt commented, in that whispered way that is used to pretend you were just talking to one person, but it's meant for everyone to hear.

Quinn had to bit down her lower lip hard not to snap at her own wedding.

"I mean, for a convicted criminal. He's hot" Kurt continued.

"You think?" Santana asked, curiously "I guess I find him handsome. I don't know about hot. What do you think, Quinn?".

"Santana, I'm seriously this close to…" Quinn started, but was cut immediately by Kurt's gasp.

"Oh!".

When Quinn turned back her head to see where Kurt was staring at – as everyone did the same – she was amazed with the most beautiful, exciting and fulfilling sight of her life.

Rachel was slowly walking down the aisle, beautiful white dress slightly bellow her knees – for Kurt's dismay, neither of the women wanted to wear actual bride dresses to the wedding; they wanted simple, but cute white dresses – her left arm tangled in Tommy's. She was slightly blushed, but the look of content and anticipation on her face was obvious to everyone.

"Wow. Kurt was right. Tommy is hot" Santana commented, deep down hoping to annoy Quinn. When she heard no answer coming from the blonde at her side, she turned her head from the stunning sight of Rachel to look at her.

Quinn had tears in her eyes and it was the most touching moment Santana had ever experienced.


End file.
